


when you’re living on your knees (you rise up)

by Puppetqueen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anita Blake Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Blood Drinking, Blood Sharing, Developing Relationship, Hyung Kink, Knotting, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, OT3, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Switching, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27448984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppetqueen/pseuds/Puppetqueen
Summary: What do you feed a hunger that feels neverending? How do you fill up a black hole with no bottom?Sex or violence? Blood or flesh? Junmyeon wonders how he didn’t realize it sooner.In which Junmyeon and Jongin are in an arranged marriage that's barely civil to begin with and their relationship is further complicated by the vampire Junmyeon rescues in an alleyway.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Junmyeon | Suho, Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun, Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Comments: 58
Kudos: 136
Collections: EXO MONSTERFEST 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt# O222
> 
> -Anita Blake Fusion tag is loose. I took a few ideas from the novels, but most prominent are the Coalition, Master Vampires, necromancers, and various were-animals. The rest of the supernatural stuff is a mishmash of my own imagination and all the vampire/werewolf media I've consumed over the years. 
> 
> -There are also mentions of Junmyeon being an alpha and knotting, but its not explored in detail, which is why I chose to keep ABO dynamics off the tags list. There are no omegas in this universe and only alphas can knot. 
> 
> ***Please do mind the tags regarding blood. This is a fic about vampires and werewolves after all. There will be copious amounts of blood used for different purposes. If you aren't into that, then this fic is not for you***
> 
> ***Violence is mild and most often depicted off scene. The most triggering of which might be the discussions of Sehun being starved as a vampire and a conversation about possible harm to a child.

The walk out of Yixing’s clinic and into the car is painful in more ways than one. 

The first—and most obvious—cause is the six inches of open flesh running down his left side. Yixing had wrapped him up and given him instructions on how to change the bandages, but had given him no medicine for the pain or to speed up the healing. His body will have to do that on its own, at a human snail’s pace because he’d been wounded by a knife made of silver. A flesh wound, really, but he’d lost enough blood to need medical attention. 

Which brings on the second, and infinitely more painful cause.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Jongin asks after an intense silence. He doesn’t start the car, not even after they’ve been sitting in it for what feels like hours. Sitting in the car right now with a furious Jongin is definitely more painful than getting stabbed.

Junmyeon can only sigh. “Let’s not talk about this here, Jongin-ah. Why don’t we go home first?”

“Answer my question,” Jongin says sharply. Junmyeon doesn’t need moonlight or enhanced senses to see the tightness of his jaw or smell the acrid scent of his fury.

Junmyeon sighs again. “Of course I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right time.”

“This coalition- ” he says through gritted teeth. “-you said it was safe. Why are you- what are you doing? For fuck’s sake, hyung, you’re a fucking accountant! What are you doing fighting these alphas for dominance?”

“We’re animals at heart, Jongin,” Junmyeon reasons, shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat where the seat belt digs into his injured side. “What I couldn’t solve with words, at meetings, in front of the press, we had to deal with the old fashioned way.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate. It’s always ever been blood or sex—sometimes both—that was the old fashioned way. For all the evolution their bodies have had to endure, _the old fashioned way_ of doing things wasn’t too long ago. 

Jongin’s hands tighten audibly on the steering wheel. “Those people who brought you to the clinic, they- did you- ” he breathes in sharply through his nose, eyes bleeding yellow as he grapples with his anger and fights for control. Junmyeon doesn’t dare touch him or ask him to calm down, even as his hands itch to reach out, his wolf whining in his head to soothe. He can only imagine what Jongin can smell, under the blood in his clothes and the violent energy that permeates the air. He knows exactly what Jongin will ask, even before he asks it. 

“Are you fucking them?” Jongin asks with the echo of a growl in his voice, a sub vocal quality reverberating deep in his chest. “They smelled so much like you in the waiting room it was suffocating.”

_They smell like me more than you do_ , Junmyeon thinks a little bitterly, the thought unbidden and the words at the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t voice them. He’s already survived a stabbing tonight, he’s not about to risk his life again. 

“Minseok is my Second and Jongdae is my Third—of course they smell like me.”

“You didn’t answer the question. Are you fucking them?” Jongin asks sharply. 

Junmyeon sighs. His head hurts. He’s a werewolf, he shouldn’t have headaches but there it is, a pulsing throb at his temples. “No,” he answers honestly. 

“But you were,” Jongin interjects right away. “They may have fought their way up the ranks, but its fucking you that earned them Second and Third, isn’t it?”

In the end, Junmyeon can’t lie. Never mind that Junmyeon would never lie to Jongin anyway. “That was before,” he says, frowning at his own hesitation. “Before...the wedding.”

Jongin scoffs at that and doesn’t reply, but he does start the car. 

“Jongin- ”

“Not right now, hyung,” Jongin interrupts, his eyes on the road and that growl still rumbling low in his throat. “I can’t drive and talk to you at the same time. Not unless you want us to make it home in one piece.”

Junmyeon struggles with the urge to sigh again, his headache only throbbing harder. 

Truthfully, that’s what the last few months have felt like—a struggle. Junmyeon thinks about when it might have all started to go wrong, but it’s not a thought he chases very far. He looks at Jongin, at his hands gripping tight to the steering wheel and the simple band of white gold that glints with each passing streetlight. 

No—even after getting stabbed and all the months of struggle before that—Junmyeon can’t bring himself to regret the vows they made.

The rest of the ride home is predictably silent. 

Jongin had always been quiet, even when they were children, often too shy for his own good—friendly, but reserved. Junmyeon, on the other hand, thrived in social situations, taught at an early age to navigate their social circles with a proficiency to make his parents proud. But Junmyeon’s never minded silence; he enjoys whatever spare moments he has for self reflection and introspection. On the surface, he and Jongin should have made a great match—both of them come from respectable packs with lineage going back hundreds of years, the purest of bloodlines in a world hyper focused on power, or at least the illusion of it. 

Junmyeon, as the second son, and Jongin himself being the youngest of three—they should have been able to escape tradition, pawns spared in their families’ political machinations by virtue of their older siblings taking up the mantle of responsibility. But in the end they’d both been wrong. No matter how much time has passed, tradition caught up with them anyway. 

When they get home, it’s still too quiet. Home is a modest house in the middle of the forest, at the edge of the pack’s territory. It’s surrounded by acres and acres of land—perfect for full moon runs and letting their inner wolves free. Perfect, too, it seems, for avoiding each other, a fact they’d taken full advantage of in the months since they’d moved in.

Junmyeon’s kept himself busy with pack business and, along with his day job, the most he’s done at home is sleep. He knows Jongin’s done the same, preferring to spend most of his time outside or at the pack house when he isn’t at work. It makes for a very empty home, in every sense of the word. It’s something Junmyeon feels keenly as they pull up into the driveway and they’re greeted by darkness, not even the porch light on to welcome them. 

Inside, Jongin doesn’t speak, and Junmyeon is too tired and in too much pain to fill the silence with his usual words of diplomacy. He simply doesn’t have the energy to fight with Jongin—not tonight and not again. Jongin for his part, is careful when he helps maneuver Junmyeon into bed, taking care not to jostle his wound too much. He doesn’t speak, but his fingers are gentle when they lift Junmyeon’s shirt to inspect the bandages. They linger too, his prolonged touch unexpected as it is uncharacteristic. 

Then he leans in a little closer and inhales deeply, nostrils flaring and eyes glowing yellow, mouth slightly open to breathe in Junmyeon’s scent and taste it in the air. The room is filled with a heavy energy as Jongin brings his wolf to the surface, and Junmyeon can almost feel the animal, the way it rubs up against him, the sensation of fur on flesh seemingly too real. It’s a comfort Junmyeon has forced himself not to yearn for, despite the ache, the disconnect between them causes him.

Junmyeon longs to pull Jongin against him, to bury his nose in the younger man’s scent and hold him close, but he doesn’t. Before Junmyeon’s wolf can rise in answer, Jongin is pulling away. 

“Good night,” Jongin says as he makes his way out of Junmyeon’s bedroom. The words are quiet, bitter— _grudging_. The silence that follows is the most painful thing to happen to him tonight, even after getting stabbed. 

In his exhaustion, he can’t help but curse Jongdae in his head, the more petulant side of himself blaming his Third for calling Jongin in the first place. 

_He shouldn’t have called,_ Junmyeon thinks as he grasps at the slow tendrils of sleep curling at the edges of his consciousness. He settles gingerly on his back, arms up and under his pillow, out of the way. It’s not the most comfortable, but he’s so tired. It’s hard not to feel sorry for himself when he thinks about how he could be enveloped in a pile somewhere else, surrounded by pack members and comfort if he couldn’t siphon off healing energy. Instead, he’s alone in bed, with a husband in a room on the other side of a house that felt nothing like a home. 

It takes a long time for Junmyeon to fall asleep. Even then, he sleeps fitfully, his wound making every movement painful and any prolonged position uncomfortable. 

When he wakes in the morning, he’s surprised to hear that Jongin is not only up, but still home, the sounds of someone working in the kitchen unmistakable. It’s well past nine in the morning and usually Jongin would be long gone, leaving early to get to the art studio his family runs in the city. 

Jongin’s father had been a famous artist in his younger years and he’d used the money from his artwork to open a studio in a busy district in the city, dedicated to teaching art to anyone willing to learn. Humans, shifters, witches, vamps—everyone was welcome. Jongin has been helping him run the place since high school, taking a more official position after he’d graduated college with a business degree and his sisters had married. While most of their patrons were still from the shifter community, they have a handful of students from wealthy human families that paid good money to have their children learn under Jongin’s father’s tutelage. 

“Oh, uh- are you not going in to work today?” Junmyeon asks as casually as he can when he steps into the kitchen. He heads for the coffee machine but Jongin cuts him off. 

“You got stabbed last night, hyung,” Jongin says brusquely, gesturing for Junmyeon to sit and promptly handing him coffee himself. “Why would I be at work?”

“Oh, well- I’m fine, you know,” Junmyeon says, a little confused. “No need to miss a day of work on my account. I’m sure your dad needs your help more than I do. Anyway, I could always ask someone else to come by- ”

“Who?” Jongin snarls all of a sudden, his own mug filled with milk and a splash of coffee coming down onto the table with a loud thud. “That Second of yours? Or your Third? Do you want them to come take care of you instead of me?”

“Jongin, that’s not- ”

“Because they can’t come here. I won’t let them. They aren’t welcome,” Jongin says with a finality Junmyeon’s only heard once before. 

_(I don’t want to marry you.)_

It’s too early to be sighing so deeply, but Junmyeon finds himself doing just that. “Jongin, be reasonable,” he says, running a hand over his face. “They’re pack. You can’t just ban Minseok and Jongdae from coming over. I’ll need them to help me heal.”

Jongin’s nostrils flare at that, his eyes flashing yellow and staying a light honey brown when he growls, “You got stabbed with silver. Yixing hyung said no kind of magic would make it heal any faster. You don’t need them to help you.”

His words rub Junmyeon the wrong way and his own temper flares. “That’s not for you to decide,” Junmyeon says, trying to suppress the growl building in his chest. In his mind’s eye, his wolf rouses, eyes blinking as it raises his head.

“We’re married. I get a say in who comes and goes in this house.”

Junmyeon has to inhale slowly to control the sudden spike of anger he feels at Jongin’s words. “We might be married,” he says, his tone deliberately measured to keep his wolf at bay. He can feel the beast prowling in his mind, vibrating under his skin, reacting to his emotions. “But you made it very clear you never wanted to be, so now is not the time to start acting like a husband. Minseok and Jongdae will come when I ask,” Junmyeon says, injecting finality to his tone. “If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to be here.”

He doesn’t add that Jongin is rarely there anyway, doesn’t give in to the petty bitterness he knows he’s allowed to fester for far too long.

Jongin’s anger ripples through him in visible waves, eyes flashing gold while he grits his teeth, lips curling around the way his mouth is rearranging itself to accommodate the elongated canines he’s trying to hold back. Junmyeon’s own wolf bristles at the display, wants to erupt through his skin and take Jongin’s neck between his teeth to make him submit. But Junmyeon holds back, like he always does when it comes to Jongin, even if he’s running out of excuses as to why he should. 

“You would choose them, over me?” The question is more growling than words, Jongin’s face contorting into more beast than man.

Junmyeon shakes his head in frustration. “I chose you, Jongin. It's you who didn’t choose me.”

“We didn’t have a _choice_ —” the words are punctuated by the sound of broken ceramic, Jongin’s mug of coffee shattering when he throws it into the sink. He stalks out then, rushing out the back door in a ripple of skin and fur, fabric ripping when he shifts abruptly into his wolf. His large and tan form disappears into the tree line before Junmyeon can say anything else.

Junmyeon feels like throwing his own cup of coffee against the wall, and wants to feel the satisfaction of hearing it shatter. Better yet, he wants to shift too, and give chase. He wants to hunt Jongin down so they can settle this argument the old fashioned way, with teeth and claws and violence. Junmyeon’s wolf likes the idea, rumbles in satisfaction at the thought of Jongin beneath them, submitting. Junmyeon, the man, doesn’t let himself dwell on it. No use wanting what he’ll never have.

The rest of the morning is an exercise in endurance.

Junmyeon cleans up the sink, his movements slow and pained. Thankfully, the rest of him heals just as quickly, unaffected by his wound. No one’s there to mind if he’s a little less careful with picking up the broken pieces, and Junmyeon relishes the momentary sting before the small cuts disappear.

To his surprise, Junmyeon notices a large plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and toast covered in cling wrap at one end of the counter. He allows himself only a moment to feel guilty about their argument while he eats. He hates that their every interaction is strained, borderline combative, but Junmyeon can only give way for so long before his own bullish nature stops him. He’s fought long and hard with his wolf for the ironclad control of his mind and body, but there’s just something about Jongin that disorients him, makes him lose rationality. They can’t continue like this, and Junmyeon knows that too. 

Despite what he’d said during their argument, Junmyeon doesn’t ask Minseok or Jongdae to come. Never mind that Junmyeon is hurting and could sorely use the comfort of other wolves to soothe the ache in both his body and his soul. It was Jongin’s house too, after all, and he deserved a say in who came and went. 

Junmyeon spends most of the afternoon working, requesting a few days off from his day job and delegating some unfinished business with the Coalition to various committee members to complete. Minseok will have to oversee the final inspection of their newly built headquarters, and while Junmyeon knows he’s more than capable, he can’t help but be a little upset over it. For years, the Coalition was nothing more than a half hearted attempt at progress. The new facility was a huge undertaking, a culmination of years and years of trudging through political red tape, fighting for preternatural rights, fighting prejudice and oppression from the human government, fighting _each other_. 

Now though, the Coalition is a respected entity in the lycanthrope community, dedicated to helping lycanthropes all over the country. It provided help to any were-animal in an emergency, encouraged information-sharing among the coalition member groups, and spread awareness of were-animals to humans through the radio, television, and public speeches. They had a help hotline with counseling and support to both new and existing weres and their families, and plans for public seminars in the future.

With the new facility as their main hub of operations, the Coalition will be able to help new shapeshifters adjust to the change in lifestyle, keep them from shifting early outside safe houses, as well as providing them with a safe space to shift if a safe space isn’t available to them. Junmyeon is proud to have been appointed Chief Officer, even if the position came with unavoidable responsibilities. He’s left it up to Jongdae to do damage control and make sure news of his injury is kept quiet. If word gets out that he’s unable to fight, all their efforts might unravel entirely. 

When the bulk of his work is done, he’s unable to ignore the ache in his side any longer, Junmyeon finally goes to lie down and rest. He checks his bandages first, smells the little bit of blood seeping through his stitches, but not enough to worry him. He’ll need help changing them later and, not for the first time, he curses at Jongdae in his head. Had his Second kept Jongin out of this whole mess, Junmyeon could be recovering elsewhere, surrounded by pack and their comforting presence. Even if there’s a little traitorous part of himself that’s enjoyed Jongin’s attention, no matter how painful and fleeting. 

Junmyeon sleeps away most of the afternoon, more tired and exhausted than he’d previously thought. He sleeps through lunch, unbothered by hunger as sleep claims him in a deep and healing embrace. He has scattered dreams—sometimes as a wolf, other times a man—bizarre scenarios that he chases down in his head before they spiral into blank spaces undisturbed by the concept of time. It’s in one of those blank spaces that he’s roused by a familiar scent, never strong enough to cling to him in the day, sending an ache in his chest even in sleep. Junmyeon stirs awake with his wolf whining in his head, an echo of a desolate sound between his ears. 

The weight of a big wolf climbing into bed with him is hard to ignore and Junmyeon’s eyes fly open in surprise even if he knows exactly who it is—or maybe it's because he knows exactly who it is that makes the situation so surprising. He hasn’t been this close to Jongin in any form since the night they’d said their vows under a bright full moon only a few months ago.

“Jongin? Wha- ”

He’s interrupted by a low growl as the wolf curls around him, its weight almost suffocating Junmyeon as it rests its muzzle against his chest, but still careful enough to avoid the wound on his left side. Jongin smells like the forest, like he’d rolled around in the dirt and communed with the earth. It’s so soothing, so achingly comforting that an answering rumble comes from Junmyeon’s chest unbidden, his own wolf so close to the surface he feels the beast rippling just beneath its human cage. The threat of shifting is so real Junmyeon has to grit his teeth to grapple with control, time his breathing into measured counts so that he isn’t triggered into shifting by Jongin’s scent—honeysuckle and sunshine. Junmyeon’s always been drawn to it and these last few months of trying to ignore it have been torture. 

If he shifts now, vulnerable and injured as he is, it’ll be a painful and messy transition. 

A long, rough tongue licks under his jaw, startling him out of his concentration. It’s a common enough act between members of a pack that Junmyeon shouldn’t be this surprised about a fond swipe of a tongue here and there, but he and Jongin have never been friendly, exactly. _Civil_ , maybe, but never close enough to warrant this kind of affection. 

To his ever growing surprise Jongin follows up with another tentative lick of his tongue, alternately rubbing his warm, wet nose against Junmyeon’s collar, his neck. _Scenting him_. 

Jongin’s honeysuckle and sunshine scent mixes with his own—the smell of an impending storm over the open sea—and Junmyeon is devastated at how perfectly their scents combine. Together, they smell all too alluring, like all the days they should have spent in each other’s presence; like all the nights they should have spent just like this, whether as man or wolf, chest to chest and intertwined. 

Junmyeon wants to mourn their wasted time but Jongin won’t let him. Jongin surprises him again by nudging at the underside of his arms, burrowing his nose and wiggling around from left to right before Junmyeon finally understands. Tentatively, he loops his arms around Jongin’s wolf head, fingers shy as he buries them in golden fur. Jongin makes another sound, one of satisfaction when Junmyeon hesitantly rubs between his ears. Junmyeon’s wolf yips in excitement, wagging its proverbial tail in his head. 

Jongin’s eyes are knowing when Junmyeon catches his gaze, the depths of those big, bright, yellow orbs shuttered to Junmyeon for so many months now but somehow, in this moment, they’re a little less unfathomable. 

Jongin growls when Junmyeon tries to break their silent knowing with words, shutting his eyes and turning his head when Junmyeon so much as attempts a syllable. Junmyeon can’t stand not knowing what’s caused this sudden change of heart—was it him getting stabbed or the knowledge that he’d seek refuge and comfort elsewhere? Wolves are territorial creatures by nature. Is it only instinct pushing Jongin into his bed or is it something else? Junmyeon finds that he can’t stand the possible answers to his questions either. 

Despite his inner turmoil, Junmyeon succumbs to sleep far easier than expected. He doesn’t want to think about whether Jongin will be there in the morning or if he’ll just be another scent in the sheets. With his need for constant, iron-clad control, Junmyeon doesn’t usually allow himself much. But this—Jongin in his bed and in his arms—even if it’s only for tonight, Junmyeon will allow himself this. 

Predictably, when he wakes Jongin is no longer in bed. Junmyeon is inclined to think of the whole encounter as a fever dream if the remnants of Jongin’s presence weren’t so distinct. Honeysuckle and sunshine cling to his bed and his skin, thick like nectar and almost just as cloying except Junmyeon’s wolf wants to roll around and bury himself in the sheets. The most Junmyeon will allow himself is to hide his face in the blankets and inhale deeply. 

One breath. 

Two breaths. 

Three. 

Junmyeon forces himself out of bed, and doesn’t look back at the vacated space through only sheer force of will. In the bathroom however, he can’t bring himself to shower, draws the line at washing away the evidence of their mingled scents, never mind that he could really use one. His bandages need changing, the stickiness of dried blood and the itchy feeling of a forming scab are all unfamiliar. He settles for washing his face and brushing his teeth instead, opting to deal with the bandages later, after he’s dealt with breakfast. 

It’s just past ten in the morning and Junmyeon doesn’t expect to find Jongin home again—an assumption he proves himself correct when he walks out of his bedroom and into an empty house, an empty kitchen. He’s back to ignoring the pang of disappointment at Jongin’s absence, stuffing it away along with his fantasies of a happy home and a happy husband to wake up to. 

Expectations managed, walking into the kitchen and finding another huge plate piled high with breakfast food is not something he’d been expecting. Strange, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth so he thanks Jongin silently in his head before eating ravenously. He doesn’t realize how hungry he is until some of the ache in his side and in his chest eases—feed one hunger and you feed them all, he thinks. 

After breakfast, he puts all the dishes away and resigns himself to tackling the need for a shower and changing his bandages. He doesn’t look forward to it, especially when just removing his sleep shirt makes the wound throb like it’s being reopened. He proves his theory correct once again when removing the bandages is equally difficult. What scabs have formed stick and come off along with the bandages, fresh blood welling up and oozing through some of the stitches Yixing had had to place. 

The smell of blood is sharp and metallic in Junmyeon’s nose as he disposes of the soiled bandages and tries to maneuver himself awkwardly into the shower. He’s unused to the prolonged discomfort of an injury and it shows in how inefficient he is in cleaning himself with one. He’s been in the shower for almost fifteen minutes, barely clean and ready to call it quits when the bathroom door flies open and he jumps in surprise. 

“Jongin, what the hell- ”

Jongin interrupts him by pulling on the shower’s glass doors, his eyes still the bright yellow of his wolf, the beast not too far beneath the surface. He’s naked and dirty, remnants of the forest trailing the bathroom flooring his wake. “I smelled blood.”

Junmyeon’s first instinct is to hide his uncovered wound, the alpha in him unwilling to show the most vulnerable part of himself at the moment. “The bandages needed to be changed and I wanted to take a shower- “

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Jongin says with a hint of a growl even as he’s stepping into the stall. 

Junmyeon steps back in shock and confusion. “What are you- I didn’t even know you were home- ”

“Where did you expect me to be when you’re injured?”

“I don’t know- ”

“Or were you expecting someone else?” Jongin snarls, backing Junmyeon against the corner of the shower and out of the spray. “You wake up, I’m not there, and it’s that easy to replace me? Who is it? Who did you call? Tell me- ”

“ _ **That’s enough, Jongin**_ ,” Junmyeon says, letting his eyes go red and imbuing the words with carefully leashed power. He fills the space between them with the presence of his own wolf—big, black, and hulking, looming over them like a specter. He can feel Jongin’s wolf waver under the weight of his own, but it doesn’t cower. Junmyeon feels the way Jongin’s anger pulses through him in waves, making him fight against the power in Junmyeon’s voice, resisting the compulsion to obey. 

It makes sweat prickle at his forehead and his wound throb, but Junmyeon doesn’t falter either. Long minutes tick by, silent and heavy except for the sound of the shower still running but soon enough Jongin is turning his head and grudgingly baring his throat. He’s breathing hard, eyes no longer glowing but still on fire, still looking for a fight.

_**“Get out,”**_ Junmyeon says through gritted teeth. Pain lances through him at his use of power, but he’s had enough of catering to Jongin’s unreasonable temper. _**“I don’t want to force your submission but I will if you don’t leave on your own.**_ ”

Jongin’s eyes flash at that, but Junmyeon feels the other wolf whimper at his command. With one last harsh exhale, Junmyeon is left alone in the bathroom once again. He sags against the tiled wall as soon as Jongin slams the door closed behind him. For a moment the world spins and Junmyeon has to close his eyes against the wave of nausea that assaults him, stomach rolling and mouth filling with spit. It feels like forever before it passes, the water gone cold when he finally steps back under the spray. He washes his hair as quickly as he can and passes the bar of soap over the parts of his body that he can reach without crying out in pain. 

Stepping out of the shower and drying off is another endeavor he ultimately fails in. He pats himself off enough just so he isn’t dripping all over the floor, then he grabs another, smaller towel from a clean stack above the toilet and holds it against his side to stop the pink-tinged rivulets from running down his leg. Junmyeon walks out of the bathroom like that, nude except for the towel pressed to his side and encounters yet another surprise when he steps into the bedroom.

Jongin is sitting on his bed, still shirtless but in loose sweatpants and no longer trailing dirt. Even more surprising is the array of medical supplies he’s got laid out on Junmyeon’s bed.

“Let me help you,” Jongin says grudgingly before Junmyeon can open his mouth. He’s scowling and he won’t quite look Junmyeon in the eye, but the force of his anger seems subdued now, not gone but bottle-capped away. “Earlier- I didn’t mean to get angry but- ” Junmyeon watches him struggle with finding the words, half expecting an apology even if he knows better. “Just- let me help you with that- ” he gestures vaguely at the towel pressed to Junmyeon’s side. “Then if you’d really rather someone else be around while you recover, I’ll leave.”

Junmyeon doesn’t know what to say to that so he keeps his silence. He just sighs heavily and walks over to the bed, sitting next to Jongin in an empty space among the medical supplies. He’s keenly aware of his nakedness. Even if it’s not in a wolf’s nature to be bothered by nudity, Junmyeon is hesitant to show Jongin any more vulnerability than he has already. 

In a direct contrast to the pinched look on his face and the rigid set of his shoulders, Jongin’s hands are gentle, if a little clumsy. He hesitates when Junmyeon hisses at the press of disinfectant, a fleeting, unreadable glance at Junmyeon’s face before he proceeds to clean the wound with even more caution. Junmyeon is careful not to let Jongin’s warmth or proximity visibly affect him, never mind that his own wolf is still bristling at Jongin’s earlier provocation. The urge to pin Jongin to the ground with teeth at his neck until he submits (wholly, totally, completely) is still strong and it takes Junmyeon more effort than usual to quell the feeling. 

“Thanks,” Junmyeon says quietly when the last of the bandages have been secured. He moves to stand but he’s stopped by unfamiliar fingers curled around his forearm.

“Why?” Jongin’s voice is rough suddenly, and Junmyeon is surprised to find the younger wolf’s eyes are oddly wet. He looks angry, but smells almost...sad. 

Junmyeon doesn’t shake him off. “Why, what?” 

“Why are you fighting other alphas?” Jongin asks, eyes glinting, going hard. It’s the question Junmyeon’s been dreading for a long time now. “Doesn’t that go against the whole idea of the Coalition? Is the Coalition all a lie?”

Junmyeon doesn’t answer right away—can’t. The words get stuck in his throat, a jumble of thoughts that make no sense, sounding only like excuses. He’s known this day was coming, that he couldn’t keep the fights a secret forever, but no matter how much he’d anticipated it, he still doesn’t quite know how to explain. 

“Let me get dressed,” he says with another heavy sigh. “And then I’ll explain.”

When he pulls away, Jongin lets him go. Junmyeon turns to his closet, pulling out sweatpants and a t-shirt. He can feel Jongin’s eyes trying to burn a hole into his back. Even dressed, he doesn’t feel any less vulnerable.

“The Coalition,” Junmyeon starts, choosing to lean against the windowsill instead of sitting back on the bed. “It has good intentions. We’ve come a long way from even just a few years ago. We’re more than just an idea now—we’re an institution with goals, a vision. But we still have a long way to go.”

Junmyeon explains as best he can, about how it hasn’t been easy, how the Coalition did its best to rely on diplomacy to get the other wereanimals to be a part of a mixed animal group, for alliance instead of brute force. But diplomacy hasn’t always been an option. Trying to make a no-war rule that sticks like the Vampire Council did with the vampires is difficult when lycanthropes don't have centuries of obeying a central government. It had been impossible to ignore the beasts lurking behind their human faces and what they couldn’t resolve with words had to be dealt with in ways their inner animals could understand.

_Sex or violence_.

Junmyeon had chosen sex as often as he could, but that no longer became an option after he and Jongin had gotten married. Jongin seems to struggle with this concept the most, even after Junmyeon’s explanation. 

“Are you saying you’ve fucked every leader of a pack aligned with the Coalition?” Jongin asks, looking incredulous. 

“No, not all of them,” Junmyeon sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “And not any in the last four months. It was fuck or fight, Jongin, and I’m sorry if that makes you hate me, but I’m not sorry for the choices I’ve made.”

The silence that follows is almost as painful as it is distressing, made worse by the smell of anxiety permeating between them. Junmyeon does his best to keep his emotions at bay, but it feels like he’s backed up, four months of swallowing down every emotion concerning Jongin wanting to spill over in a single moment of weakness. 

“I don’t hate you,” Jongin says, to Junmyeon’s surprise. “But I had a life before you. Before we had to get married.”

“That doesn’t have to change.”

Jongin scoffs, the sound a little wet. He won’t quite look Junmyeon in the eye. “You say that but so many things have already changed. We can’t just go back to the way we were before.”

_Like strangers?_ Junmyeon thinks, saddened that the open honesty of _Jongin the wolf_ is absent in _Jongin the man_ , but Junmyeon had expected that, has come to expect that. 

“We can,” Junmyeon offers quietly. “If you really wanted to, we can figure something out. I think that a divorce may be out of the question right now, but you don’t have to keep coming back here if you don’t want to. We’d have to be discreet about it but—”

“I don’t—”Jongin shakes his head. “—want that. I don’t want to get a divorce.”

Jongin is just full of surprises today. Junmyeon thought he’d jump at the chance to go their separate ways. “Oh.”

“Like I said, I don’t hate you.” Jongin fidgets on the bed, pulling at the covers, radiating nervous energy. “But I don’t even know if I like you. As a person or anything else. Now we’re stuck here together and you’re caught up in some weird animal hierarchy dominance thing and that’s not—” he blows out a long breath, shaking his head and hands fisted in his lap. Haltingly he says, “I don’t...even know you. Beyond how you grew up, where you went to school, what your day job is. How can we be married?” Jongin looks up at him then, eyes wide and shiny, brimming with confusion. “What are we doing here, hyung?”

Junmyeon doesn’t know how to answer that, his own voice caught in his throat, chest heavy with a feeling he can’t name. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” Junmyeon struggles to keep his words steady. “Why didn’t you say anything? When things were being arranged?”

“Why didn’t you?” Jongin asks, his tone accusatory. “Actually, no. I know why,” he says even before Junmyeon can attempt an answer. “Do you even—like me? Or am I just some sort of duty to you? Was I just...convenient?”

“Jongin, what are you talking about?” Junmyeon rushes to say, “Of course I like you!”

“But if you had a choice, would you have chosen to marry me?”

Junmyeon doesn’t answer right away, let's silence envelope them all over again. This is the most honest they’ve been with each other in all the time they’ve been together but it still isn’t enough. They’re still running circles around each other, creating mazes with their words, unable to say the things they really want. When he does answer, Junmyeon chooses his words carefully, makes sure he’s looking Jongin in the eyes when he says,

“I had a choice, Jongin. I chose _you_.”


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing changes after that—not really, at least nothing Junmyeon can put his finger on. Jongin is just as quiet around him, just as reserved, and Junmyeon tries not to let that bother him too much. It’s not like he’s reached out either, attempted to close the ever widening gap between them. He can’t really say he understands Jongin, doesn’t know what drives him, what his dreams are, if he has any goals or ambitions. In a way Jongin had been right—they don’t really know each other, not beyond paper, or public knowledge. 

But Junmyeon had chosen Jongin for a reason. He may not know Jongin’s favorite color, or what his hopes and dreams are, but he’s seen Jongin in action—the doting uncle to his niece and nephew, his fondness for children at pack gatherings. He’s seen Jongin’s own sense of duty and filial piety, comparable to his own. He’s strong too, the golden wolf swift during pack runs, agile and clever during organized hunts. 

Junmyeon’s chest swells with pride at the thought of such a mate, his own wolf preening and itching to stand by Jongin, to rub his scent all over Jongin’s fur so that everyone knows he is theirs. It doesn’t hurt either that Jongin is beautiful, his human skin is as smooth and golden as his wolf’s fur, his body tall and strong, his face sinfully handsome. 

Yes, Junmyeon could do worse in his choice of mate, his choice of husband. 

He’d been too relieved when Jongin had said no to Junmyeon’s offer of separation. Sure, they don’t see each other often even now, but there’s something about the thought of coming home to Jongin—whether his presence is welcomed or not—that Junmyeon likes too much, _anticipates_ too much. 

So when Junmyeon starts noticing Jongin is home more often at the same time he is, Junmyeon tries not to get his hopes up. Jongin still sticks to his side of the house, but Junmyeon can smell him here now. Whiffs of honeysuckle and sunshine left over on the kitchen counter where he ate, a lingering aroma of him on the couch. There’s growing evidence of his presence over every surface of the house. Junmyeon has to reel himself back slowly, has to control the urge to follow Jongin’s scent right to its source before he does something truly unforgivable. 

Instead, Junmyeon settles for naps curled up on the couch in the spot Jongin’s scent is strongest. If he pretends to stay asleep when a quilt smelling of honeysuckle sunshine tucks around his shoulders—that’s between Junmyeon and his wolf. 

Minor changes at home aside, life still goes on. His wound heals painfully slowly, torn muscle and skin knitting back together at a snail’s pace. Yixing removes the stitches after two weeks, full of praise for Jongin and teasing Junmyeon for his impatience. 

“These are healing nicely,” Yixing murmurs, more to himself while he cleans and examines the wound. “I wasn’t too worried about infection but this will likely leave a scar.”

Junmyeon frowns at that. “How likely?”

Yixing shrugs, hands busy. “That will depend on your own body. Maybe you’ll scar, maybe you won’t. All I can say is that getting stabbed with silver makes the healing process like a human’s. And some humans scar more easily than others. Whether you will or won’t is something we’ll have to wait and see.”

“When I asked ‘how likely’ I was looking for more of a numerical value, not a philosophical musing, Dr. Zhang.”

Yixing laughs, the sound light and airy. “50/50, how’s that for numerical?”

Junmyeon wrinkles his nose for effect, resisting the urge to stick his tongue like when they were children. “Not ideal, but I appreciate your honesty.”

“You’ve never been one for vanity, Junmyeonnie,” Yixing says as he finishes up and puts away his supplies. “Why the sudden concern over your battle scars?”

Junmyeon contemplates the answer, maybe a little too long. 

“Are you afraid Jongin won’t think you’re pretty anymore?” Yixing teases, a flash of dimple making his shit-eating grin even more irritating. 

“Jongin can’t even stand being in the same room with me,” Junmyeon snorts, rolling his eyes as he struggles with getting his shirt back on. 

“And yet...” Yixing comes over to help him with his shirt, moving in close to run his nose along Junmyeon’s collar. “...I can smell him on you now.”

Junmyeon rears back at the feeling of a wet tongue against his neck. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Yixing says with another laugh and a playful tug at the hem of Junmyeon’s shirt to settle it properly. 

“You should try harder to resist,” Junmyeon grumbles with a hand slapped over the offending trail of wetness. “I’m a married man now.”

“I’ll do my best,” Yixing says, settling back into the swivel chair behind his office desk. “Though speaking of marriage...how’s that going by the way?”

Junmyeon leans back against the exam chair with a shrug and a sigh. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“Well, you’ve been married for four months and up until two weeks ago you smelled like you were single. Now you don’t. That’s progress, right?”

“Sometimes, I wonder if we made a mistake,” Junmyeon says quietly, shutting his eyes. “If maybe I should have fought harder and said no. Maybe then...” he trails off, not knowing how to continue. “You know, he asked me if I even liked him.” The words sound harsh in the quiet room. “If I thought of him as convenient, nothing but a duty to fulfill.”

Yixing hums in thought. “Is he?” 

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now and I still don’t know.”

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to know?”

Junmyeon inhales deeply but doesn’t answer. 

“I think,” Yixing starts, and Junmyeon can hear him leaning back into his own seat in thought. “That ultimately, ourselves are the only things we can control in life. I can’t speak for you but we can all make choices today that make our tomorrow better. I’m not saying that you should ignore the last four months and what got you here, but even if this all started out of duty or convenience, if you want it to be more than that, then you need to act on it.”

“Another philosophical musing, Dr. Zhang?” Junmyeon asks, glancing over after another long moment of quiet. 

Yixing smiles at him, still teasing but softer this time. “You know I have plenty of where that came from.”

“Thanks for the couch time, Doc,” Junmyeon says, sitting up. 

Yixing walks him to the door and pulls him into a hug before he leaves. Junmyeon lets himself sink into it a little, rubbing his face against the other man’s shoulder and inhaling his scent. Yixing always smells a little bit like antiseptic but underneath he smells less medicinal and more like cotton and sandalwood, warm and soothing. 

“Come see me again in two weeks,” Yixing says when he pulls away, patting Junmyeon’s hip. “Not for couch time but just to visit. I haven’t seen you much lately. I miss you.”

“Sorry. I’ve been...busy.”

“I know,” Yixing says, back to teasing. “Married life has changed you.”

“Bye.” Junmyeon says with a roll of his eyes at him on his way out of the clinic. 

It’s the weekend but Junmyeon spends the rest of the afternoon at work, organizing his office to prepare for the upcoming week. He’d been working half days from home and he’s more than ready to start coming back to the office, to return to some semblance of normal. He doesn’t know how humans do it, recover so slowly from injury. He feels like he’s wasted so much time just sitting around being uncomfortable and unproductive. There’s so much for him to do, so much to finish. He doesn’t realize the sun has set and he’s been at his desk for hours until he turns to grab a file and his injured side protests. 

Junmyeon grimaces, breath caught on a sharp inhale at the sudden lance of pain. He forgets the file, not bothering to reach for it again as he tries to breathe through the ache. It takes long minutes for it to subside, but it’s just enough time for Junmyeon to decide to call it a day. Maybe he isn’t quite ready to return to the office full time just yet. 

He packs his things more slowly after that, mindful of the way his body protests the neglect he’s shown it the last few hours. There’s a twinge in his back from the way he’d adjusted his posture to compensate for a more comfortable position while sitting and working, more apparent now that he isn’t focused on one singular task. He realizes belatedly that he’s starving now too, having eaten lunch earlier in the day so he could catch Yixing on his lunch break and not disturb the good doctor’s clinic schedule. Being the only certified preternatural doctor in the city made Yixing a very busy man, but he always made time for Junmyeon. 

It’s been hours since then, and the hunger and discomfort has his wolf prowling restlessly beneath the surface of his skin, demanding to be fed, demanding to be comforted. Fortunately, one demand is easier to appease than the other. 

He decides to walk to his favorite diner; it’s a few blocks right outside the financial district he works in, about twenty minutes away on foot. He’d take his car but the closer he got to downtown, the seedier the neighborhood and the parking was an absolute nightmare. 

Junmyeon enjoys the chance to stretch his legs anyway, to breathe in air that wasn’t recycled. The block he worked on didn’t have much in the way of traffic and people during the weekends, so he gets to enjoy the open air and a quiet street unimpeded. It’s a different kind of calm and peaceful from the solitude of working in his office and Junmyeon appreciates the change of scenery. 

When he gets to the diner the sun has sunk well past the horizon, and while it’s still too early for other creatures of the night to be up and about, downtown is bustling with tourists of the more human variety. He does his best to weave between would-be party goers and groups of brides and their bachelorettes, ready for a night on the town. 

Junmyeon only envies them on the surface; he can almost taste their anticipation on his tongue, the night owls of the human race vibrating with excitement as they embark on a night of drunken escapades. He can’t remember the last time he was just out to have fun, no reputation, no responsibilities. Probably before he got married. More likely far longer than that.

These days, his fun is simple. Dinner is a large order of foods he usually makes a point to avoid: double portions of greasy fried chicken, beer, and extra bowls of rice. Not that the alcohol would have any effect on him. Having werewolf metabolism guaranteed he could probably eat like this every night and not ruin his physique or get drunk, but Junmyeon’s always been careful of what he indulged in. He likes instant gratification but doesn’t prefer it. Instead he likes waiting, savoring experiences and making them last. 

Junmyeon knows he has control issues and embraces it. 

With dinner consumed and one hunger satisfied, Junmyeon starts his way back to the office where he’d parked his car. He’s carrying a takeout order of chicken in one hand, somewhat eager to get home. He knows chicken is Jongin’s favorite and the thought of presenting him with food he especially liked makes Junmyeon smile, makes warmth bubble in his chest and—

It’s the smell that hits him first. 

There are sights and sounds and smells that he’s learned to filter out and ignore growing up as a wolf, but the unmistakable scent of blood is not one of them. Somewhere, lost in the dirt and grime and busy hum of the city coming alive at night, the smell of blood is jarring—metallic, hot, and _plentiful_. 

Junmyeon stops abruptly in his tracks, stepping out of the way of foot traffic with nostrils flaring and senses sharp, ears honing in on the sound of groaning pain about two streets over. Without a second thought, he’s at the mouth of a dingy alleyway, preternatural speed unregulated as he advances within range of the pool of blood gathering between overflowing dumpsters. 

Even with his heightened senses, it takes Junmyeon too long to understand exactly what’s in front of him. A stench that doesn’t fit in even among the refuse scattered in the alleyway permeates the air and distracts Junmyeon from the bleeding man propped up against the filthy brick wall. The man has no pulse, and he isn’t breathing but he still manages to whisper. “ _H-help.._.”

A few things snap into place for Junmyeon all at once. 

First is that the man in front of him is not human. There’s a flash of fang and blood red irises that glow up at him as the man realizes that Junmyeon is also not entirely human. Junmyeon can tell by the way his jaw feels too big for his face, his mouth more muzzle than simply a space for teeth and tongue. He can sense things better like this, half shifted and on high alert, but he knows it’s scary, knows he looks less friend than foe when the vampire whimpers, flinching and trying to make himself smaller, looking pitiful as he cowers into the corner of a dumpster. 

The second thing that catches Junmyeon’s attention is the blood. There’s too much of it and it doesn’t seem like all of it is the vampire’s, not if he’s still conscious. 

“N-no, please no—” the vampire cries softly, trembling under Junmyeon’s hand when he gently tries to assess the extent of his injuries. He makes sure his hands are humanly small, and that his mouth can fit his face again. 

“It’s okay,” he says, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible. “I’m not going to hurt you. I heard you from all the way down the street. I’m here to help, but I need to see where you’re hurt.”

The vampire whimpers again but lets Junmyeon put a hand on his shoulder to turn him. The vampire’s chest is a bloody mess—four long, deep gauges running down one shoulder and bisecting his abdomen diagonally. Those injuries are bleeding sluggishly, staining what Junmyeon is sure was once a white shirt so that it’s nearly crimson now, and tattered beyond repair. Still, the most pressing injury seems to be the chunk of flesh missing from the vampire’s mangled shoulder, right between where the neck would meet the collarbone. Junmyeon can smell blood seeping out at an alarming rate. He can almost taste the iron on his tongue, how hot and wet it is, his wolf taking keen interest and prowling just beneath his skin. 

He’s quick to remove his argyle sweater, buttons flying as he balls it up to press against the wound hard enough that the vampire cries out, flinging out his arms weakly in an attempt to fight Junmyeon off. He’s deteriorating quickly and Junmyeon’s heart hammers, pounding in his chest at the thought of what needs to be done. The vampire isn’t healing fast enough or at all it seems, meaning either the damage is too great or whatever attacked him was another vampire, possibly even a shapeshifter. There’s also that stench lingering in the air, out of place and obscuring Junmyeon’s sense of smell, making it hard for him to identify much else. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, tapping the vampire lightly with fingers on one side of his face. “Hey, what’s your name?”

The vampire is looking less lucid, his eyes going glassy and half mast. “Hey, stay with me—fuck.”

He’s running out of time. Junmyeon curses again when the vampire goes entirely limp and he has to haul him against his chest to keep both of them upright. He can’t put pressure on the wound like this so Junmyeon decides to prioritize. As quickly as he can, he sits with the vampire between his legs, positions them back to chest and uses half shifted fingernails to cut the skin at the bend of his elbow, making sure to catch the big vein there. He winces at the sting but doesn’t hesitate to curl his arm around the vampire and hold the trickling blood against the vampire’s slack mouth. 

“Come on, come on,” Junmyeon mutters under his breath. The seconds feel as if they’re stretching into infinity as they pass and the vampire remains unresponsive. His mind races even as time seems to slow; it’s bad no matter what angle he tries to look at it from. A dead vamp and in the arms of a werewolf, no less? Not to mention Junmyeon’s been the face of the Coalition since it became formally organized a few years ago—selfishly, he thinks the press will have a field day when the news breaks out. 

Honestly, he’s surprised no one else has come to investigate the alley yet. The smell of blood is potent and with the sun fully set and the moon making its way across the night sky, he can’t be the only preternatural roaming the streets right now. It looks and smells like the scene of a murder, and Junmyeon would be the prime suspect. 

A prickle of pain and the sensation of lips sucking at his skin pulls Junmyeon out of his spiraling thoughts. 

“Thank fuck,” he breathes, flinching when sharp teeth bite into the hollow bend of his elbow and the vampire starts drinking from him with more intensity. The vampire in his arms stirs, moaning, hands coming up to press Junmyeon’s arm tight against the suction of his mouth. 

Junmyeon’s heard people talk about how good a vampire’s bite could feel, other wereanimals who had less hang ups and a less tainted history with vamps. He’s also personally had his fair share of vampires who’d been shameless enough to proposition him while he had toured their night clubs and establishments in the name of the Coalition. Vamps who tried to entice him with their dark, seductive energy even as he worked to make sure they had a voice in the community. 

So really, Junmyeon understands their allure, has fantasized about having his mind rolled and his submission won with their distinctive brand of magic. But there’s none of that in the here and now. Right now there’s only pain and discomfort in the act, anxiety in the situation, resignation in the conclusion. 

“Slow down, slow down,” he says, trying to hold his arm back just a little, even as that small effort has his bones creaking and forearm threatening to break. The skin at his elbow feels ripped to shreds under careless, desperate teeth and Junmyeon saw this coming too, calculated the consequences the moment he decided to offer himself up as food. 

He feels himself start to get dizzy at the blood loss, the steady pulls of the vampire’s mouth loud in his ears. Blood is everywhere again, but this time his own is mixed in too. Junmyeon fishes out his phone from his jeans with much difficulty, knows he needs to call someone before he inevitably passes out. 

_Need you_ , he types out, sending a ping of his location as well. The message goes out and then Junmyeon is left to wait. 


	3. Chapter 3

“You know, when I said I missed you and that we should see each other more often, I didn’t mean in this capacity,” Yixing says when it’s Junmyeon’s turn to be examined. Their vampire charge lays deathly still on the spare bed in Yixing’s back room, rarely used for patients. Yixing assures him that the vampire is still with them in the realm of the living, despite the deathlike stillness. “Why you called me instead of the police or an ambulance when you find a body in an alleyway—”

Junmyeon towels his hair tiredly, having showered and changed out of his blood soaked clothes and into a spare set Yixing keeps for his long nights. “I could smell what he was right away. Both you and I know that no hospital would take him and I’m more likely to get arrested by the police than get help with the amount of blood in that alley.”

Yixing sighs, sitting Junmyeon down and taking over the toweling of his hair. They both know he’s right. There’s still much prejudice in the world and unfortunately human rules don’t always apply to them, no matter how human they looked. “You’re lucky I was still here.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, lips quirking up dolefully. “Wasn’t luck. I knew you’d still be here. You’re as much of a workaholic as I am.”

They share a moment of silence, exhaustion settling in as the adrenaline of the past few hours faded. As the minutes pass and the gravity of the situation starts to sink in, Junmyeon’s thoughts go into overdrive. Odds and ends of consequences and scenarios, plan A, B, C, D—all the way down to Z forming and reforming in compartmentalized instances in his head.

“He’s a vampire—a new one.” Yixing says, cutting into Junmyeon’s runaway thoughts by stating the obvious. “He’s healing very rapidly so my guess is he’s only a couple of weeks turned. He’ll be awake soon and he’ll need more blood.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have any spare units of blood lying around, would you?” Junmyeon tries for some levity, but his tone falls flat, even to his own ears. 

“This isn’t exactly a blood bank, but yeah. I do.”

It’s quiet again, the silence broken only by the protein bar Yixing unwraps for him and the orange juice he pushes into Junmyeon’s hand. Yixing’s gaze is probing. Junmyeon waits until he’s had a few bites of the protein bar before he asks. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

Junmyeon raises a questioning brow at him. “Yeah, I’m perfectly fine—”

The doctor tightens his grip on Junmyeon’s arm, shaking his head. He doesn’t beat around the bush. “He’s an unknown, random vamp you found in an alleyway, Junmyeon. It was very noble of you to have offered a vein up so freely.”

Junmyeon doesn’t like the way those words sound coming out of Yixing’s mouth and he bristles at it, feeling his wolf lurk restlessly close to the forefront of his consciousness. He shakes off Yixing’s hold but doesn’t move away, stands his ground so that his wolf’s energy can grow and expand between them. “Are you actually implying I should have minded my own business and left him out to bleed?”

Yixing sighs, running a hand through his hair and baring his throat at Junmyeon, yielding. “That’s not what I meant.”

Junmyeon does not yield, instead he lets his wolf show in his eyes, irises glowing yellow and pupils sharp. He waits for Yixing to continue, not needing words to command him to speak. 

“A few weeks ago, the vamps had...a situation. I know this only because I got called on by special request.” Yixing answers Junmyeon’s question before he can even ask it out loud. “I can’t tell you the details because of doctor-patient confidentiality—not that I know much to begin with—but from what I gathered there was a Master Vampire from another city that came to visit and there was power play and vampire politics involved. Long story short, there was a disagreement and the visiting Master Vampire was forced to leave. However, not all of his entourage followed suit. They left behind a few troublemakers who attacked some humans at one of the vampire nightclubs. That’s when they called me.”

Junmyeon’s brow furrows. “Why didn’t I hear about this? Why wasn’t the Coalition informed?”

“You know how the vamps are. They play by their own rules,” Yixing says with a resigned shrug. “And it happened in their territory. They have enough power to keep things like this out of the media.”

“What happened when you got there?”

“There was a lot of blood. I treated who I could, but I’m sure there were a few casualties they made an effort to keep me unaware of.”

“Is he…” Junmyeon gestures at where their vampire patient continued to lay unmoving. “Does he look familiar to you? Do you think he was there that night? Are you thinking that’s maybe why he was attacked?”

Yixing shrugs again, an unreadable look on his face as he too, watches the vampire slumber on. “We won’t know until he wakes up and even then, it's only if he chooses to tell us anything. But I have my suspicions.”

Junmyeon had briefed Yixing about how he happened upon the injured vampire on their way back to Yixing’s clinic. Junmyeon had been exhausted after he’d pried himself away from the vampire’s violent feeding, half dead with his own blood loss. Yixing had apparently driven like a madman to be there as quickly as he could, less than half an hour after Junmyeon had sent him that vague message. By some miracle they were able to transport a bloody Junmyeon and the equally bloody, unconscious vamp he’d just rescued into Yixing’s car and back to the clinic without anyone calling the cops on them. 

Junmyeon had told Yixing all about the stench that seemed out of place, something odd about it, the way it clung to his nostrils and dulled his senses. Then of course Yixing had seen the injuries on the vampire himself, the deep gouge marks, and the ravaged shoulder and was able to come to his own conclusions. 

Junmyeon runs a hand through his hair and blows out a hard breath. “Something attacked him in that alleyway and it definitely wasn’t human. I didn’t see it and I could barely catch its scent but—it smelled like it might have been another wereanimal.” Junmyeon shakes his head. “Actually, I don’t know. It could have been another kind of shapeshifter too, but—there was so much blood and that weird scent. I couldn’t focus much on anything else. I already called Minseok and Jongdae. They’re going back to the alley to investigate.”

Yixing frowns even harder, but finally finds his voice. “That’s a good idea. I’ll reach out to the people who contacted me about the club incident. If it really is related to that, you might need an audience with the Master Vampire of the city. It started with them, and they should be the ones to tie up their loose ends. In the meantime—” he gestures at the vampire, still deeply unconscious, silent, and eerily motionless. “This is Oh Sehun. If he really is newly turned, then there's a good chance his ID is a real one and not a fake.”

Yixing hands him the vampire’s slim wallet, filled with some petty cash, a few credit cards and a driver’s license. The outside of the wallet is made of leather, expensive looking and probably ruined now that it was covered in blood. The contents are similarly coated in varying degrees but Yixing had cleaned off the front of the license to clearly show a name, birthday, eye color, height and weight, and most importantly—an address. 

“What do you want to do with him? I can stay with him for tonight, make sure he gets enough blood and heals properly. But he can’t stay for long. If someone really is after him, I don’t want them to trace him back here.”

Junmyeon nods his head in agreement. The clinic was unofficially neutral territory, one universally acknowledged by the preternatural community at large, but unwelcome parties not native to the city might not feel the same way. 

“No, you’re right. It would make the most sense for me to take him home but…”

Junmyeon thinks about Jongin, about the chicken dinner he’d planned to bring home, his bag of takeout now abandoned somewhere on a busy street. He sighs. 

“Here.” Junmyeon is startled out of his thoughts by Yixing handing him a handful of small, different colored bottles. “I’ve been experimenting with different kinds of wolfsbane. This is for pain, this is for healing, this one is to help you sleep.” He points them out to Junmyeon one by one.

“Why didn’t you give these to me weeks ago?” Junmyeon asks, incredulous.

“These are _experimental_ ,” Yixing says with a roll of his eyes and a tired grin. “Meaning I’m the only one who’s ever tried them so I can’t guarantee if they’ll work for you or what side effects they might have.”

“Still,” Junmyeon eyes the various liquids dubiously.

“Take the one for healing now, to help with the arm and the—” he gestures at Junmyeon’s side, at his older injury. Junmyeon is reminded of its existence all of a sudden by acknowledging the deep ache he’d been trying to ignore in the long while they’d been talking. “The other two have sedative qualities. You can take them together, but only right before bed.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Junmyeon says while he waits for a car service. He’d had to leave his own car at work and of course Yixing wouldn’t be able to drive him home. He supposes he could have called Jongin to pick him up, but Junmyeon isn’t looking forward to the conversation explaining himself or his injuries tonight. “Sorry for getting you all mixed up in this. I know you like to stay neutral.”

They say their goodbyes, with Yixing pulling Junmyeon into a reassuring hug just as headlights pull into the clinic’s front gates. “Text me when you get home. Keep me updated.”

Junmyeon spends the ride home lost in thought, the thirty minutes it takes to get home not enough to organize everything he needs to say. It’s very late, past two in the morning now, and Junmyeon is surprised to see the porch light on. Jongin has the front door open before he can fully exit the car.

“What happened to you?” He asks the same time he takes a deep breath, eyes flashing the moment he smells Junmyeon’s new injuries. “Where have you been? Why are you hurt? Were you fighting again?”

Junmyeon can feel the energy around them spike, sudden and sharp, but it’s also not quite the prelude to the heated argument he’s been preparing himself for. It’s less angry and more… _concerned_ , and the difference throws him off a little, confusion added to the inner turmoil he’s already facing. 

“No, not exactly.”

Jongin ushers him inside quickly, locking the door behind them. He’s wearing a matching set of dark blue silk pajamas, his hair hanging loose and in disarray, as if he’d been running his hands through it countless times. It’s an odd thing to focus on considering the events of the past few hours, as well as the conversation they urgently needed to have, but Junmyeon can’t seem to help himself. Jongin looks so soft, inviting almost, as if he’d been waiting anxiously for Junmyeon to come home. 

He’s leaning in before he can stop himself, weighed down by exhaustion and deeper pain that went beyond the superficial layers of skin and bone. His arms go around Jongin’s shoulders, not caring that he has to rise up on his toes just so he can reach. He takes a deep breath, greedy for that scent of honeysuckle and sunshine that’s so potent behind Jongin’s ear, his neck, in the hollow of his throat. 

They aren’t close, and he knows he’s crossing lines like this, taking liberties while in their human skin. So Junmyeon allows himself only seconds, the feel of Jongin’s soft hair and warm skin searing itself into his memories, to be broken down and examined for later. It’s a quick embrace, completed in nothing more than a quick exhale of breath, a momentary weakness he’s so sure he’ll pay for in lashes to his soul and their tentative progress shattered. 

But when he tries to pull away it’s Jongin who won’t let him go. 

The strong arms circling his back and the firm chest he’s suddenly pressed against feel foreign, the concept of Jongin holding him close without fur and a tail so alien that Junmyeon startles. 

“Jongin, what—”

Jongin cuts him off with a low growl, the sound definitely more wolf than human. Jongin hugs him closer, tighter so that Junmyeon’s feet lift off the ground and he can do nothing but cling to him. Jongin’s scent is so thick in his nose it’s dizzying. 

Junmyeon lets out his own growl, his wolf impatient to take over, much too pleased. The wolf in him aches to sink teeth into the flesh of Jongin’s shoulder—to mark and to claim in the basest way—to roll him in the grass and dirt, to chase a full moon together. 

Junmyeon struggles to hold back, manages it somehow, but only because he’s licking at the column of Jongin’s throat instead, tasting the salt of his skin. He feels the growl build in Jongin’s chest, following the vibrations with his nose, and mouth, and tongue. Then there’s a wall at his back and a firm thigh shoved between his legs. 

_“Whose is this?”_ The words are rough and grating when Jongin speaks, as if there were too many teeth for his mouth to contain. He pulls at Junmyeon’s borrowed hoodie with the kind of force meant to break steel and shatter glass. The fabric doesn’t stand a chance—the front of it is ripped to shreds before Junmyeon can take a breath to answer. 

The tattered threads reveal the new bandages wrapped around his right arm and Jongin nearly howls in rage. “Who did this?” He asks, the words barely comprehensible. He’s starting to look more wolf than man and it’s the feral glint in his eyes that snaps Junmyeon out of fog he’d been in. 

“Jongin,” he says quietly, beseechingly. He bares his neck, heaves himself up and wraps legs arounds Jongin’s hips so that it’s right under the younger wolf’s nose. He’s mindful of his own heartbeat, wills it down to something slow and calm while he presses lips to Jongin’s shoulder. “Jongin.”

Jongin fights him for only a second, tries to rear his head back when Junmyeon puts gentle pressure on the back of his head, urging him to sink his face into Junmyeon’s neck. Junmyeon does his best to radiate calming energy, let’s the spirit of his wolf wrap them in warmth. He feels Jongin’s wolf answer in kind, the image of their black and tan fur intertwining behind Junmyeon’s eyelids. 

In increments, he feels Jongin’s heart rate match the beat of his own, and the oppressive atmosphere of anger and aggression dissipate. Junmyeon knows when Jongin’s wolf recedes back into his human skin, the face pressed into his neck no longer sharp with teeth that didn’t belong to any man. What’s surprising is that he doesn’t let Junmyeon go, not even when Junmyeon shifts in his arms, trying to let his legs down. 

“Jongin. Jongin-ah.” Junmyeon takes more liberties, unable to stop himself. He runs hands all across the expanse of Jongin’s shoulders and upper back, greedy, wanting to outline the muscles underneath blue silk with naked palms. He rubs the side of his face along Jongin’s jawline and whispers into his ear. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Let me down and I can explain everything.”

He keeps repeating the words until gradually Jongin’s arms loosen from around him and he’s able to touch feet to the ground again. “Let’s go sit down, okay?”

They walk into the living room where they sit on the couch facing each other. Jongin’s brows furrow into a scowl, eyes still bright and glowing when Junmyeon quietly starts to recount the events of the last few hours. When he gets to the part about needing to give blood to the injured vamp he’d found, Jongin surprises him yet again. 

He takes Junmyeon’s right hand, cups the elbow wrapped in bandages, glaring at the new injury. “You’re always too fucking _nice_ ,” he says, the words a harsh contrast to the gentle way he cradles Junmyeon’s arm. “Always getting hurt for other people.”

Junmyeon doesn’t know how to process the venom in Jongin’s tone, and isn't sure if it’s really directed at him. “I don’t mean to get hurt. I just do what needs to be done.”

“You need to stop.” Jongin’s eyes glow bright with anger, pupils sharp. “You need to stop fighting. Stop getting hurt. Stop being a _fucking_ martyr—”

Junmyeon cuts him off with a hand pressed to the back of his neck, squeezing hard so his wolf recedes and the power set to boil over goes back to simmering. He brings their faces close together, foreheads touching. Something’s shifted, changed between them, something nameless, but full of possibilities. He’d spent so much time trying to ignore it that Junmyeon doesn’t know how to address it now that it’s so obvious. 

“You didn’t come home,” Jongin says quietly in the scant space between them while Junmyeon is still figuring out what to say. He’s still scowling but the words sound pained even under the veneer of anger. “You _always_ come home. But I waited for hours and you didn’t call, you didn’t text. You go out, you get hurt helping other people but you never call _me_.”

“I didn’t know I could call you,” Junmyeon says just as quietly, his words soft, placating. “Did you want hyung to call you, Jonginnie?”

He doesn’t miss the way Jongin’s nostrils flare at his teasing, or the way he flushes red with something other than anger. Junmyeon doesn’t push, doesn’t make him answer right this moment. These are questions for another time, when Junmyeon isn’t half delirious with exhaustion and Jongin half feral with his own inner turmoil. 

“Let’s go to bed, okay? We can talk about this in the morning,” he says, even as the tendrils of dawn begin to lighten the night sky just outside the living room windows. 

Morning is an abstract concept full of real world problems Junmyeon refuses to deal with until he’s had at least eight hours of solid sleep. The thought of rest makes his wolf whine in his head, and it’s hard to suppress the sound in his own throat when it looks like he won’t be sleeping alone. 

Jongin follows him into his bedroom without another word, staying just as silent, wolf eyes glowing, and daring Junmyeon to say a word when he climbs into bed alongside him. Not that Junmyeon would deny him anyway—he likes the image of Jongin in his bed, warming his sheets, and making it feel less empty. 

They’re pressed up close together, not quite embracing but it’s a near thing. Jongin curls around him, much like in his wolf form, and just as demanding. He makes Junmyeon take the vials of liquid Yixing had given him as instructed and in minutes Junmyeon is fighting sleep, fighting to stay awake in this reality just a little longer. Just in case Jongin laying beside him is nothing but a dream. 


	4. Chapter 4

Junmyeon’s sleep is long and heavy—dreamless and void-like. When he wakes up, it’s slow too, like awareness filtering in by bits and pieces. He’s conscious of sound first, the slow breaths of another in bed with him. Then he registers a body pressed against his, solid, muscular, and warm. Junmyeon makes a noise of contentment, reveling in the feeling of being held, his wolf rumbling in approval. 

He stretches, back curving, and shivers suddenly at the warm palm that lands on his hip and traces up his side. It sends tendrils of pent up arousal shooting up his spine and Junmyeon curls fingers around a delicate wrist to stop the inquisitive hand before his body starts reacting. Slowly, he turns, coming face to face with Jongin’s sleepy eyes, now back to their warm dark brown, and what looks like a tiny pout on his generous mouth. Junmyeon has never seen him look quite so soft and he revels in the unexpected privilege. 

They don’t speak for a long time, just laying there together and tracing each other’s features with their eyes. For once there is no tension between them, no animosity, or negative energy and Junmyeon can’t quite wrap his head around it. He’s so used to their every interaction being painful or strained, and after everything that transpired last night, he’d been looking for more of the same. Thinking about their change in dynamic so soon after waking up is giving him emotional whiplash. 

“Minseok called,” Jongin says quietly, breaking their mutual silence. 

“What did he say?” Junmyeon asks, feeling either stupid or brave when he reaches up to brush Jongin’s sleep mussed hair out of his eyes. His chest warms when Jongin’s eyelids flutter closed and he pushes his head into Junmyeon’s hand. 

“He asked if you were okay. And that you guys need to talk about what happened in that alley.”

“Did they find something?” Junmyeon goes still at the reminder that last night hasn’t been resolved and it’s catching up with him. 

“He didn’t say.”

Quiet descends upon them again and with the haze of sleep slowly dissipating, Junmyeon forces himself awake, forces himself to sit up and get out of bed, to start the day and get things done. 

“God, what time is it? I have to—” Before he can get up, Jongin is yanking him back down. 

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he says, and Junmyeon feels his neck crack in actual whiplash the way he turns it so quickly. 

“What?” He asks, slightly confused and wholly distracted by the picture Jongin makes laying on his bed, shirtless and alluring with his sleepy eyes and tousled hair. 

“It’s so hard,” Jongin says, a frown marring his handsome features and he tugs on Junmyeon’s hand until they’re laying side by side again. “It’s so hard being angry all the time—at you, about you, _because_ of you.”

Junmyeon leans up on an elbow so they’re eye to eye. “Why are you angry, Jongin-ah? What did I do to make you angry?”

Junmyeon is genuinely curious because he doesn’t think he and Jongin have interacted enough in the months since they’d gotten married to make Jongin angry all the time. In fact, he’s always gone out of his way to give Jongin space, to make sure he was comfortable because the Jongin he remembers growing up had always been shy and a little reserved, preferring his own space.

Jongin shakes his head. “You’re everything my parents wanted me to be. They never said it out loud, but I knew—if I didn't care about power and didn’t have any ambition, the least I could do was marry well, make a good match so I wouldn’t be a disappointment.”

Junmyeon aches at Jongin’s words. “Jongin…”

“No—stop looking at me like that.” His jaw clenches and he has to look away for a second, but he doesn’t let Junmyeon go, keeps him close instead of pushing him away. “It was still my decision. I wouldn’t have agreed to an arranged marriage if you were a jerk, and they wouldn’t have forced me.”

“Then why…” Junmyeon’s heart sinks at a sudden realization. “Did you—were you already in a relationship?”

Jongin’s silence and the way he avoids Junmyeon’s probing eyes are answer enough. 

“Oh God, Jongin, I-I’m sorry,” Junmyeon rushes to apologize, heart in his throat and chest aching. “Why didn’t you say anything? If I had known—”

“If you had known, then what?” Jongin cuts in. “You’d call off the engagement? It wouldn’t have made a difference. The relationship I was in wasn’t serious and just like you, I did what needed to be done. But—” He pauses, looking away again but squeezing Junmyeon’s hand. “—you made it look so easy. A strong wolf, successful, handsome, and willing to fulfill your filial duty with a smile on your face? Could anyone really be that perfect?”

Junmyeon shakes his head and leans over so he can cup Jongin’s face, look him in the eye when he says, “I’m not. I’m not perfect, Jongin.”

“I know that,” Jongin says, looking up at Junmyeon with earnest eyes. “I’ve known that for a while now but I couldn’t get over it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how it could have been anyone else. Like it didn’t matter who it was, even if it wasn’t me, you could have married anyone else and you’d still be the same.”

Junmyeon doesn’t try to deny it because Jongin is right. He upholds duty and honor to his family higher than any personal happiness, and if his parents had arranged for him to marry someone else, he’d have done it just as willingly. 

But he’d been relieved it was Jongin. More than relieved actually— _excited_. What words did he have for the way his wolf had pranced and preened in satisfaction when it was Jongin who had been chosen to become their mate? Quiet, beautiful, unassuming Jongin whom they’ve known since childhood, with his sturdy, reliable wolf. Jongin was perfect. Junmyeon’s wolf knew instinctively that Jongin would make a good mate, and Junmyeon had been inclined to agree—once his wolf had decided, Junmyeon would have been hard pressed to marry anyone else. 

“It’s just you and me now, Jongin,” Junmyeon says quietly. 

Jongin nods his head. “I know. I don’t want to fight anymore. Can we- can we start over?” He asks so shyly, with eyes down cast but hopeful. Junmyeon can’t imagine denying him. 

“Of course, Jongin,” Junmyeon murmurs into the diminishing space between them. Junmyeon is so close now he can see the golden flecks in Jongin’s eyes, the way his pupils expand when they dart below to Junmyeon’s mouth. He tilts Jongin’s head up. “Anything you want.”

It’s Jongin who presses up to kiss him, to close the gap just like Junmyeon had hoped. Jongin’s lips are plush, only slightly chapped, his breath a little minty but he tastes just as sweet as Junmyeon imagined. His chest rumbles in satisfaction at the way Jongin’s mouth parts at the flick of his tongue, the way Jongin pulls him all the way down with long arms wrapped around his neck. When their bodies align, it’s like striking a match—the fire between them is sudden and instantaneous. 

Months of pent up tension go from violent to sexual in the space of breaths and Junmyeon doesn’t have the capacity to hold back, not with Jongin’s fingers digging into his back, pressing them skin to skin. Junmyeon finds himself licking into Jongin’s mouth with little finesse, just an aim to mark and claim, not a gentle request, but a _demand_. Jongin answers in kind, growling deep in his throat when Junmyeon slips a thigh between his legs and rubs up against the growing hardness he finds there. Jongin grabs him by the waist to hold him still, hips rolling for maximum friction. Junmyeon groans in pleasure, mouth skating down Jongin’s throat when he arches his back to moan, neck bared and begging for Junmyeon’s teeth. Junmyeon descends on the offered expanse of skin like a man starving. He’s aware just enough to make sure it’s blunt teeth that sink into the flesh of Jongin’s shoulder, but other than that he doesn’t hold back. 

Junmyeon bites hard enough to draw blood, the kind he wishes would leave a mark so everyone would know Jongin was his. Jongin howls when he does, whether in pain or pleasure it doesn’t matter to Junmyeon anymore. He wants all of Jongin’s sounds, everything, all the ones he held back and all the ones he has yet to make. He wants Jongin to do the same for him, pull sounds and leave marks so everyone would know they belonged to each other. 

The wave of possession makes Junmyeon dizzy, never having felt this way about anyone before—he wants to own Jongin, to have him. To be owned and had in return. 

Jongin curls a leg behind his knee and rolls them over in one swift, smooth motion, leaving him on top and Junmyeon a little breathless at the way Jongin stares down at him. His eyes are bright, almost glowing except his pupils are large and dilated with arousal, left only with a thin ring of warm brown for Junmyeon to get lost in. Jongin leans down to pull him into yet another kiss, hips shifting and grinding, even the thin material of their sleep pants too rough for their sensitive flesh. Junmyeon scrambles for the elastic on Jongin’s pants, fingers itching to wrap around the thick cock pressed against his own. 

“Ngh—hyung, like this,” Jongin gasps. He tugs at their pajamas haphazardly and takes both their cocks in hand. He moans, grabbing one of Junmyeon’s hands and guiding towards his ass. “Touch me,” he says, up on his knees as he thrusts his hips. Junmyeon hisses at the friction, digging fingers into Jongin’s skin, leaving marks that fade too quickly to really bruise much too quickly to admire. 

Junmyeon sits up, leans against the headboard so he can reach Jongin’s mouth again, so that he can feel Jongin chest to chest, that much more skin pressed together, more of Jongin on him, above him, the scent of honeysuckle and sunshine filling his senses. He groans at the feeling of Jongin’s tongue rubbing against his, fucking in and out to a similar rhythm he’s using to stroke them both together. Jongin’s tastes so good, feels so good that Junmyeon feels like a volcano ready to erupt, his heart pounding and body bowed taut. 

“Hyung—” Jongin’s breath catches on a whine, knees spreading wide, impatient. 

Junmyeon already knows he’ll become slave to the sound of his voice hitching like that, that he’ll be powerless to deny Jongin anything if he asks like that again. And so Junmyeon gives him what he asks for, loops arms around Jongin’s hips to spread him wide—wider—fingers searching and finding that tight pucker of flesh where Jongin wants his touch the most. He rubs at it and Jongin keens, hands faltering where he’s still stroking them together. 

Liquid heat spills between them as Jongin moans again, body going taut as he comes, the scent and feel of him bombarding Junmyeon’s senses and he comes too, sudden and overwhelmed. 

When Jongin slumps against him, they’re both panting, hearts pounding like galloping horses pressed to each other’s chest. Jongin heaves a big sigh and nibbles on the jut of Junmyeon’s shoulder, lips following in the wake of his teeth. Junmyeon finds himself doing the same, arms tightening around Jongin’s taller frame and uncaring about the mess cooling in between them. 

His hands explore Jongin’s back with bare palms, just the way he wanted to last night and he revels in all the lean muscle and smooth skin he’s now able to touch. Jongin shivers when his hands dip lower, down the spine and over the swell of his ass. Junmyeon squeezes in delight, arousal hot and sharp, making his cock twitch in interest. 

“We should clean up,” he murmurs into the curve of Jongin’s ear, licking at the edge of it, just behind it, addicted already to the taste of Jongin on his tongue. 

“Touch me some more,” Jongin answers, sticky fingers splaying all over Junmyeon’s chest and abdomen, working the drying cum into his skin—staking his own claim in a more subtle way. 

“I promise I will, whenever you want, as long as you’ll let me.” Junmyeon pulls Jongin’s face out of his shoulder to tell him this, to kiss him again and again and _again_ because he just can’t help himself and Jongin doesn’t stop him either. 

They don’t part until they’re well and truly crusty, and even then it’s with reluctance. Jongin is surprisingly shy when not in the throes of passion, quiet, with eyes that won’t quite meet Junmyeon’s and cheeks perpetually warm even under the cool spray of the shower they decide to share. Junmyeon’s thoughts flit back to the last time they shared bathroom space—the anger and confusion from back then haunts Junmyeon, makes him push Jongin up against the shower wall so they can create new memories, better ones. 

Jongin goes easily, his air of shyness and embarrassment dropping immediately when presented with the opportunity for more kisses. He yields so beautifully even here, even under lowlights and the unforgiving damp tile against his back. He clings to Junmyeon, arms twined around Junmyeon’s shoulders and one leg hiked up over his hip, giving Junmyeon enough room to press fingers against his hole. 

They can’t do much in here, not without lube, but that’s not what’s important anyway. Junmyeon just likes the feel of Jongin against him, the weight of him in his arms, them touching skin to skin. He knows somewhat that the feeling is reciprocated, can feel their wolves twining together, a happy pile of writhing fur even as Jongin trembles in his hold. 

Jongin’s arousal is one hot, thick line rubbing against the ridges of his abdomen, hard again already, and all the while his own is just not as important. Junmyeon is consumed by the want and need to make Jongin feel good, hyper focused on the tip of two fingers he’s managed to slip into Jongin’s hole, the tight ring of muscle like a prelude to the way it would feel around his cock. 

“Fuck me,” Jongin babbles as Junmyeon continues to finger him lightly. “Please fuck me.”

And Junmyeon would love to, would do it right now, sink into the tight hot space in his body that Jongin is so freely offering, except Junmyeon’s a bit of a sap and can’t help but think they owe each other a wedding night—something softer and more thought out than fucking in the bathroom the first chance they get. 

Junmyeon tells him just that, promises Jongin all the sweet nothings he intends to fulfill while putting pressure on Jongin’s hole. Jongin comes with a long moan that echoes off the bathroom walls, a sound Junmyeon is readily addicted to. He’s had too much of Jongin’s painful silences, his sharp tones. Junmyeon wants nothing more than to hear Jongin moan his name, to call him _hyung_ in that high pitched, whimpering breath he likes so much. 

He likes even more the way Jongin’s still trembling fingers wrap around his cock, using his own cum to slick the way. He mouths at every patch of skin he encounters, Junmyeon’s ear, down his jaw, across the breadth of one of Junmyeon’s shoulders, muscles taut as he bears Jongin’s weight in his arms. But it’s the way Jongin says, “Hyung- Junmyeonnie hyung, _come_ \- ” that really has Junmyeon tipping over the edge. He adds again to the mess between them in a flash of white behind closed eyelids and a guttural groan, Jongin making pleased sounds as his fingers are coated in cum. 

Junmyeon’s panting, still dazed and knees a little weak when Jongin lifts his dirty fingers and sucks them into his mouth. He moans, seemingly enjoying the taste, and Junmyeon is pressing him up against the tile again for another kiss. 

They finally leave the bathroom after much time and too much water is wasted. Jongin is shy again when they’ve finally wrangled some clothes on and have food on the table. It has to be a late lunch because they slept most of the morning and would fuck away the afternoon if they didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. 

Jongin gets a stubborn look on his face when Junmyeon finally calls Minseok back, planting Junmyeon in his lap and growling into his nape as he tries to have a decent conversation. He’s eavesdropping without subtlety, enhanced wolf hearing ensuring that he can hear every word the moment the call connects. 

“There was definitely a weird smell,” Minseok says, his tone all business. “But we can’t pinpoint where it's coming from.”

“What do you think it smells like?” 

“Honestly? Like garbage. Which is a given considering—”

“Yeah, but do you think it smells like another wereanimal? Another shapeshifter? Some other preternatural being?”

“With all the blood I can’t tell. I smell traces of you, but really mostly just vampire.”

Jongin’s arms around his middle tighten, hands curling around Junmyeon’s now-healed elbow. There are only faint marks now, marks that will fade before the sun even sets. Junmyeon pats Jongin’s hand in reassurance. 

“I’m fine by the way,” Junmyeon segues. “I heard you were asking.”

He can hear the grin in Minseok’s voice even without seeing it. “I was going to ask again but wasn’t sure if the question would be welcome. Hello again, Jongin.” Jongin gives him an annoyed growl in return. “What are you going to do about your new vampire friend?”

Junmyeon hesitates before answering. He knows what needs to be done, but it’s not something he and Jongin have had time to talk about just yet. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

They end the call after not much longer, and then it’s just him and Jongin again with the elephant in the room they have yet to address. They opt to finish lunch and clean up before they’re back in bed, Junmyeon with a bloody wallet in hand. 

“His name is Oh Sehun,” Junmyeon starts, “We don’t know much about him except what’s on this ID, and that he's very newly turned.”

He hands Jongin the wallet and it’s contents. Yixing had cleaned off the blood from the ID so that Oh Sehun’s face and information was visible. He’s handsome, even on the ID picture, and apparently quite tall. He also lives on the other side of the city from where Junmyeon had found him, a neighborhood neither he or Jongin are familiar with. Jongin stares at his picture long and hard while Junmyeon explains the danger he might be in, that maybe some rabid, out of control vamp might be prowling at night, seeking revenge for a slighted Master. 

“He’ll need a place to stay for a little while, just until we can make contact with the Master Vampire of the city. I don’t want to make a move and get the Coalition involved publicly until we know what’s going on.” He watches Jongin’s expression carefully, gauging his reaction. “Yixing kept him overnight to make sure he doesn’t die on our watch, but he can’t stay there for much longer. He can’t go home either, just in case whoever or whatever attacked him in the first place comes looking for him again. So—”

“I know him,” Jongin cuts in abruptly with eyes wide and disbelief clear in his tone. 

It’s disbelief Junmyeon mirrors. “What?”

“His name- it sounded familiar last night when you mentioned it but- ” Jongin pauses, brow furrowed, staring hard at the ID of Oh Sehun in his hands. “I didn’t know it was him. I know him! He’s- he used to come for lessons with my dad at the art center. But I could have sworn he was human. I didn’t know he- ”

Junmyeon puts a placating hand on Jongin’s shoulder. “He...might not have been turned willingly.”

“That’s terrible,” Jongin whispers, looking up at Junmyeon with wide eyes filled with horror. 

Junmyeon sighs. “It is. In more ways than one.”

Junmyeon thinks about the repercussions of this mess leaking to the press. This kind of trouble for the vamps will shed a harsh light on the preternatural community as a whole and undermine all the good work the Coalition has done, all because of an isolated incident. They need to handle matters quickly and quietly. 

“We need to help him,” Jongin says earnestly. 

“Of course, that’s what I’ve been meaning to say.” Junmyeon squeezes Jongin’s shoulder. “I know things between us are still new, and as much as I’d love to spend more time alone with you, I think the safest place for Sehun to stay is with us while we sort things out. What do you think?” Jongin goes quiet again, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth and a torn expression on his face. “I know it’s not ideal,” Junmyeon hedges, “But it’s the safest option we have until we have more information.”

“I know,” Jongin answers, a hint of a growl in his voice. When he looks up at Junmyeon his eyes are bright again, his wolf lurking close to the surface. “But I don’t like it. This is _our_ house. _Our_ space. I don’t like the idea of anyone else being here. And especially not someone who hurt you just last night.”

Junmyeon tries not to be too pleased at Jongin’s show of possessiveness, but he’s pretty sure Jongin can smell the satisfaction on him if the sudden scowl on his face is anything to go by. Junmyeon can’t say he doesn’t understand; he’s got his own territorial streak to deal with, but he’s had more experience downplaying it when there are matters to prioritize. 

“Whether he’s here or not doesn’t change things between us,” Junmyeon says, cupping Jongin’s face in his hands and kissing away the furrow in his brow. “We’re starting over and I’m determined to make things work, regardless of who’s around.”

“There’s only me, right?” Jongin asks all of a sudden, and Junmyeon realizes belatedly that they’ve come to the crux of the matter. “You promise I’m the only one?”

“I promise, Jongin,” Junmyeon answers sincerely. “There’s only been you since the day we got married.”

“And Minseok, Jongdae, and everyone else—”

“Minseok, Jongdae, and everyone else knows their place,” Junmyeon says firmly. “None of it was serious, strictly business or platonic.”

Jongin stares into his eyes, searching, and Junmyeon hopes he finds what he’s looking for. “You promise?” Jongin asks with all the vulnerability he’d been hiding behind a mask of anger and hostility for four months.

“I promise.” Junmyeon seals the words with a kiss. That seems to placate Jongin enough. He heaves a big sigh, the wolf in his eyes retreating. 

They spend the rest of the afternoon preparing for their guest. They clean out Jongin’s room in favor of sharing Junmyeon’s. He doesn’t think he’s seen Jongin happier than when he’d moved a few of his essentials into empty spaces in Junmyeon’s room. He’s got a drawer filled with his own underwear and a few shirts and sweatpants, his toothbrush and bathroom essentials find their place next to Junmyeon’s. 

They clean up around the rest of the house as well, tidying up as best they can at such short notice. Thankfully neither of them are too messy so it doesn’t take too much time. Before long the sun is setting and Junmyeon receives a text message from Yixing. 

_He’s awake._

They call a car service and detour to pick up Junmyeon’s in the office parking lot before driving to the clinic. They park in the back and Yixing buzzes them through the employee entrance. 

The doctor eyes them knowingly as they walk into his private office. He doesn’t quite sniff at them, but it’s a near thing. He’s got a smile on his face that says he knows exactly what they’ve been up to all day. 

“You guys certainly took your time getting back here,” Yixing comments, flashing his dimples. “Jongin, always nice to see you. Things are going well at home then?” 

Junmyeon doesn’t deign to answer, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “How’s your patient?”

Yixing gives him another knowing look but doesn’t push. “He’s awake, but weak. To be honest I’m surprised he’s awake at all. Usually newly turned vampires don’t rise so close to sundown, but whoever turned him must have been powerful. He’s been through three units of blood already. I’m not sure if my supply can keep up.”

“Has he said anything about...whatever happened to him?”

Yixing shakes his head. “He woke up ready for a fight. Ruined one of my white coats trying to claw his way out of here before I dangled a bag of blood in front him and the bloodlust took over. He calmed down a little after feeding, but he hasn’t said much to me. When I asked him, he said that he doesn’t remember anything about last night or the last few weeks.” Yixing pauses in thought, arms crossed a look of concern on his face. “How much of that is truth, trauma-induced, or just his unwillingness to talk to a stranger—I couldn’t tell you. What I can say is that he’s scared. Since you saved him, he might recognize you. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

Yixing turns toward the door of the adjacent private room in his office and Junmyeon moves to follow. He pauses when Jongin slips a hand through his and threads their fingers together. Junmyeon tries and fails to hide the overly fond look on his face, squeezing Jongin’s fingers in reassurance. 

Yixing knocks, clearly more out of courtesy than necessity. The vampire inside could hear their every word after all. Hopefully their open transparency will foster trust instead of fear. “Sehun, we’re coming in.”

The smell of blood greets them the moment they pass the threshold. 

The scent of iron takes Junmyeon back to the night before, flashbacks of a pool of red and the deafening lack of a heartbeat in the body he’d held. Junmyeon blinks away the image of a bloody Oh Sehun in his arms as his eyes meet with the one in the present. 

He looks different with color in his cheeks instead of bleeding out of him. He’s got on a shirt that’s too tight in the shoulders and sweatpants with the hem hovering a few centimeters above his ankles. He’s handsome, too, a fact Junmyeon didn’t have time to notice when he’d been busy trying to save the vamp’s life. It’s undeniable now—even with the ill fitting clothes that clearly belonged to someone else. Oh Sehun is tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair, and pale skin. Piercing eyes rimmed in red and framed by dark brows give him a haughty look, make him look cold and intimidating even as he sucks blood from a plastic pouch. His puckered mouth comes away smudged in scarlet, a hint of fang when a stained tongue peeks out to catch one final drop. 

His eyes flit back and forth between the three of them at the door, but he stares at Junmyeon in an almost predatory, unblinking way, a moment of intense eye contact before it’s broken. 

“This is Junmyeon and his mate, Jongin,” Yixing says in that calm, measured doctor voice of his. “Do you remember Junmyeon? He’s the one who found you in the alley last night.”

Sehun’s eyes flick to Yixing then back again. His gaze bores into Junmyeon even as he nods silently. 

Junmyeon steps forward, bringing Jongin along with him. Sehun twitches in his position on the exam table, it’s back raised so that the vampire is sitting up, feet dragging along the floor and going eerily still. Junmyeon doesn’t take another step further, knowing by way of instinct from one predator to another that cornering a vamp in a room full of shifters—no matter how good their intentions—would not be a good idea. 

“Hi,” He says instead, angling his body just enough to put Jongin slightly behind him. Jongin, thankfully, knows better than to complain. “Yixing says you don’t remember much about last night, but I’m Junmyeon. It’s nice to meet you.”

Sehun doesn’t answer, the crinkle of the empty pouch in his hands the only sound in the room as he twists the plastic between pale fingers. 

“How are you feeling? You definitely look better than the last time I saw you.” Junmyeon tries again, cringing at little at his stilted tone, the awkwardness. He’s usually better at first impressions, though he supposes this is technically their second meeting. Either way he’s scrambling for words. 

“I’m not sure how much Yixing told you about the circumstances we found you in, but we have reason to believe that it might be unsafe for you to be on your own right now.” He still gets no reaction. Sehun doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink—doesn’t grace them with any of these tiny human details. If Junmyeon didn’t know any better, he’d think the vampire in front of them was a statue. Still, Junmyeon powers on. “Unfortunately, you won’t be able to stay in this clinic for much longer, and we don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home—your own home—” he lets go of Jongin’s hand to get the vampire’s wallet out of his back pocket, holding it out in front of him as non-threateningly as possible. “—for the time being. Whoever attacked you might go looking for you there.”

The vampire’s dark eyes flick to the wallet. For only the second time since they walked in there’s a flash of emotion in his dark eyes. He reaches for the wallet slowly, fisting the blood bag in one hand. He’s careful when taking it, movements slow, making sure their fingers don’t touch during the short transfer. Junmyeon can’t get over just how pale he still looks, frail almost, even if Junmyeon can see that he’s mostly whole. Gone are the long gashes and broken skin, in their wake there’s only pale, smooth flesh. 

“We’re trying to get the Master Vampire of the city involved to figure out what exactly is going on, but that might take a few days. In the meantime, you could come stay with us. Jongin and I have a room prepared for you if you’re willing to come.”

They’re plunged into another pregnant pause, the silence nerve wracking but Junmyeon waits it out. He’s said his piece and it’s no longer up to him to decide how to move forward. Luckily, they don’t have to wait too long. 

“Why?” The vampire speaks for the first time, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need it.” Junmyeon turns to Jongin, surprised at his ready answer. He keeps going. “You need help and we can help you.”

Junmyeon couldn’t have said it better himself. “Jongin’s right. You need the help and we can provide it.”

“But I’m a vamp,” Oh Sehun says, his cold facade cracking, the furrow in his brow growing fierce and not smoothing away. “You’re all shifters—werewolves. Don’t you hate vamps? Don’t you hate _me_?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Jongin says, taking another step forward so that he and Junmyeon are side by side again. A united front. “Not to us.”

“It’s true,” Junmyeon agrees. “Thought for the record, we don’t hate you. Shifters or not, vampire or not—it costs us nothing to be kind.”

“I- ” the vampire starts, but he goes quiet again, seemingly unable to find the words to go on. Junmyeon hopes he says yes, hopes he agrees to come home with them. Call it his bleeding heart but he wants to help him. There’s something about Oh Sehun that makes Junmyeon want to show him some kindness, to chase away the haunted look in the vampire’s eyes. 

“Okay,” The vampire says so quietly that Junmyeon almost has to strain to hear. In yet another show of just how young he is, how newly undead—he does something Junmyeon would never think to see a vamp do—he cries. It’s a lone, single streak down one side of his face but it’s there. 

Oh Sehun agrees to go home with them. 


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s not much, but it’s pretty comfortable,” Junmyeon hears Jongin say as he gives the vampire a tour of his room. “We put up blackout curtains and changed all the sheets. You can find more pillows here and I’ve got some spare clothes in this drawer. We’re about the same size so feel free to borrow anything you like.”

Satisfied that Jongin could help Sehun settle in alone, Junmyeon returns to the task at hand. He’s in the kitchen, making space in their refrigerator for the blood bags Yixing had given them. There were about ten of them, probably only enough to last a few days or so, if Sehun continued at the rate he was feeding. Yixing couldn’t spare anymore. He’d made Sehun finish another two bags before they’d left the clinic—Yixing wanted to make sure their vamp was well fed before he let them leave. 

_“Don’t want any trouble on your way home,” He’d said as he handed Junmyeon the heavy cooler. “Take the long way, use back roads if you can. Avoid the more heavily populated areas. He may seem docile now, but if you tempt him with the sounds and smells of too many people, you’re pretty much courting disaster.”_

_“Take the scenic route. Got it, thanks Doc,” Junmyeon had replied, genuinely thankful for the advice. He’d dealt with vampis before, but only in civilized company._

_Then, just before they’d left, he’d pulled Junmyeon aside and handed him a leather pouch full of clinking glass. “These are for you,” he’d said. “Just in case.”_

_Junmyeon takes the pouch. Inside, there are more glass vials full of Yixing’s experimental wolfsbane. “‘Just in case’ what?”_

_Yixing gestures to the cooler. “If I don’t hear from my contacts right away, that’s not going to be enough and I can’t get you anymore. These- ” he points to the pouch. “-are just in case you have to be a donor again. They’ll help you heal faster and replenish your circulating blood supply.”_

Junmyeon hadn’t thought that far ahead, but he’s glad Yixing did. He’s not looking forward to having to offer up another vein, but it's not the worst thing he’s ever had to do. Besides, doctor’s orders hadn’t yet steered Junmyeon wrong. He’d taken all of Yixing’s instructions to heart, about the wolfsbane and taking the long way home. There were a few moments in the car when they’d been idling at a stoplight when a flash of fang in the rear view mirror had made Junmyeon tense, but they’d made it home in one piece. At home, surrounded by nothing but trees and pack land for miles and miles, the only temptations were Junmyeon and Jongin themselves, and they weren’t exactly easy prey either. 

Finished with his task, Junmyeon makes sure to lock up the rest of the house. It’s very late and though he and Jongin had spent much of the day in bed, they hadn’t done much resting. Junmyeon smiles to himself, tries not to get too distracted by thoughts of Jongin and spending more time in bed— _their_ bed. Junmyeon _really_ likes the thought of that.

When he’s done, he follows the sound of Jongin’s voice, no longer in the bedroom but deeper into the house, into the basement. It makes Junmyeon frown to have the basement accommodations be part of the tour but he knows it’s necessary. 

“So this is technically the basement but we prefer calling it the den. It’s sort of like...a panic room?” Junmyeon walks in just as Jongin’s musing out loud, trying to explain. “Lots of old, traditional shifter homes have something similar for when the children start going through puberty. There’s not a lot of control during adolescence, and learning to shift can be difficult and dangerous. So rooms like this were specially built to withstand a raging werewolf.” Jongin gestures to the walls. “No windows, so there’s only one way to get in or out. No moonlight either, so that makes you feel a little less crazy. The walls on one side are reinforced with silver beams as a deterrent, makes it harder to shift, and makes our wolves weaker.”

Junmyeon stops in the doorway but neither man looks his way. He watches as Sehun’s eyes take in the room, pupils dark and maybe even wary. After a long moment, he says, “Why are you telling me this?”

“This room was made with werewolves in mind, but just in case, you can use it too.”

When the house was first built, Junmyeon hadn’t liked the idea of a den, had too many memories growing up, of long nights fighting the animal inside him in a room just like this. It had felt too much like a cage, instead of something necessary. The den he’d grown up in had been sparsely furnished, just four windowless walls made of concrete, a mattress on the floor and chains hanging from the ceiling. Junmyeon had won control in that room out of sheer will power and—while necessary—he’d always wished it had been a better experience. 

With that in mind his den— _their_ den—had been built with more creature comforts. It’s bigger, for one. There’s still a mattress but it’s a better kind, the expensive kind, custom made to be twice the size of a California king, sitting on an elevated portion of one corner of the floor farthest from the wall with reinforced silver beams. It gave the illusion of a bed frame, something less desolate than just a mattress on the floor. There’s also a TV, a small fridge and plenty of cushions on a carpeted corner. There are still hooks in the ceiling and chains stored discretely away, but the room was designed to be comfortable and inviting, instead of something to be hidden away and dreaded. 

Junmyeon hasn’t spent much time in here, always too busy with work or avoiding the house all together. He knows Jongin’s spent some time in here though, has used the space to lock himself away and dance when they happened to be in the house at the same time. Even with the padded walls, soundproofed to silence the howling of a wolf, Junmyeon had been able to feel the bass under his soles, reverberating against the floorboards for hours and hours. 

He’s seen Jongin dance before, at functions and galas, events that promoted preternatural awareness and culture. But those performances were choreographed and graceful, all beautiful lines and mesmerizing formations. The kind of music Junmyeon has heard echo from these four walls is a different kind, the sound raw and powerful. Junmyeon hopes that someday he’ll get to see Jongin dance up close instead of imagining from all the way upstairs. 

Jongin continues. “But if you ever feel like the outside world is too much, or if things feel out of control, you can always come in here. The door is also reinforced and locks both ways. There’s CCTV, as well as an intercom connected to the security system of the house. It’s safe in here, whether the danger is inside the room or out of it.”

Sehun stares at the room a little longer before turning and addressing them both. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Jongin answers brightly. The open warmth radiating from him makes Junmyeon just a little jealous. He hadn’t realized how much he’d like Jongin to point his welcoming smile at him instead. Then Jongin yawns and Junmyeon’s jealousy is washed away by a tide of fondness. 

“Shall we go back upstairs?” Jongin smiles sleepily up at him, beckoning Sehun to follow. 

Sehun excuses himself on the way back to the living room, declining when they invite him to sit on the couch. 

“You’re welcome to any part of the house,” Junmyeon says when Sehun chooses to go back to Jongin’s room. “We want you to be comfortable while you’re here. We’ve even put up heavy curtains on all the windows so you don’t have to worry about sunlight reaching you just in case you doze off anywhere.”

“Thank you, but I think I need some time alone. To think…” He hangs back at the doorway, hand on the knob and eyes down cast. 

“Of course,” Jongin murmurs in understanding. Sehun nods, and with a quiet good night, he’s closed the door behind him. 

“He’ll be alright,” Junmyeon says, patting Jongin reassuringly on the shoulder. “Though he probably won’t appreciate our pity.”

“I can’t help it,” Jongin sighs, looking sadly at his closed door. “I keep remembering the few times I saw him at the art center and it's so strange to think he might be a completely different person now.”

Junmyeon tugs him away, not wanting Sehun to hear. “Strange for you, but maybe even worse for him, if he can remember anything from more than a few weeks ago.”

“He talked a bit when I was showing him around. He says he can’t remember seeing me, or being at the art center, but that I look familiar.”

Junmyeon hums at that, thoughtful as they make their way back into the kitchen. They heat up some leftovers that they both elect to eat quickly as tiredness creeps up on them. For Junmyeon especially, it's been an eventful twenty-four hours. He’s looking forward to falling into bed, and with Jongin beside him. He tells Jongin as much as they wash the dishes together, makes the younger man blush and splash water at him. 

They shower together, both eager to get naked and have each other close again. They kiss under the spray, lazy, tender kisses that quickly turn into desperate, panting ones. It’s Junmyeon who clings this time, wraps his arms around Jongin’s neck and goes up on his toes so their cocks align at just the right angle. He lets that little bit of jealousy he’d felt earlier to spur him on, to nibble on Jongin’s neck with sharper teeth than necessary, to whisper into Jongin’s ear about wanting to fuck him and be fucked by him. Jongin all but follows through, just as impatient, his hands on Junmyeon’s body, hiking one of Junmyeon’s legs up onto his hip to open him up and rub circles against Junmyeon’s hole. Junmyeon comes before he can slip more than a finger in, the delicious feeling of Jongin’s body against his, Jongin’s tongue in his mouth, Jongin’s hands on him—it's all novel, all too much. He comes with a stifled gasp followed by a long moan that Jongin steals from him with another kiss. 

“Hyung,” Jongin mutters between breaths that catch as he continues to rub his cock against the ridges of Junmyeon’s abdomen. 

And Junmyeon might be a little sorry for coming too fast, because he turns around and leans a forearm against the wall to steady himself as he arches his back and beckons Jongin closer. 

“C’mere,” he says, the words muffled by the sound of the shower. He guides Jongin by the hip, takes Jongin’s cock between his legs until it's nestled tight between his thighs. There’s enough water and shower gel to make the slide nice and smooth, and it doesn’t take long for Jongin to find a rhythm with his hips. His hands find their way to Junmyeon’s neck, pressing his face hard against the tile as he fucks eagerly between Junmyeon’s thighs. And fuck if that doesn’t feel good. 

The sound of Jongin panting in his ear and thrusting between his legs ensures that Junmyeon’s own arousal never quite dissipates; his werewolf biology takes care of the rest. Junmyeon’s already more than half hard again by the time Jongin is digging bruises into his hips and leaving a mess between his thighs. 

Jongin’s trembling when he finishes, clutching Junmyeon close and whimpering into the crook of Junmyeon’s neck. He licks and kisses along Junmyeon’s hairline and Junmyeon lets him, arousal taking a back seat. 

“Hyung you’re so—” he has to pause, doesn’t quite finish his words before he’s pressing lips to Junmyeon’s skin again. Junmyeon understands exactly what he means. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, turning his head so that their lips catch and they can share another kiss. It’s not the best angle, but it does the job. The kiss grounds them both, the tangled, invisible threads that held them together the past few months smoothing out every time they come together. They’re building bonds, an emotional connection between their wolves that runs deeper than mortal understanding. Junmyeon can feel the threads being braided into ropes; he hopes that one day they thicken beyond tree trunks, until he and Jongin are melded together, souls one and the same until they are no longer held captive by the moon, but by each other instead. 

It’s a heady feeling, falling into Jongin’s orbit head first. After all the months of anger and misunderstandings, Junmyeon hadn’t dared hope for more. Here, now, holding each other in this moment, a frozen sliver of time that’s just for them and no one else—Junmyeon dares. He lets himself fall, piece by greedy piece and only hopes that Jongin is falling just as fast. 

By the time they wake in the morning, Sehun has gone to sleep. 

Junmyeon drags himself out of bed, out of the enticing tangle of Jongin’s arms to start the coffee maker and peek in on their guest. Sehun is sprawled across Jongin’s bed with the covers half off and an arm flung over one side of the bed. Junmyeon has to admit he’s a little disappointed; he has to berate himself for being silly, thinking that Sehun would grow bat wings and hang upside down from the ceiling to sleep. It's a terrible cliche, one he’s sure Sehun wouldn’t appreciate. 

To compensate for his terrible thoughts, Junmyeon steps into the room. He really shouldn’t—a vampire is most vulnerable during the daylight hours and the vamps Junmyeon has met wouldn’t be caught undead away from their coven anywhere near dawn. Sehun likely doesn’t have one or at least doesn’t remember if he does. Either way, it’s so painfully clear how young he is, how newly turned. His habits and mannerisms are too human-like, lacking the mysterious, compelling aura of an older, more experienced vampire. 

As quietly as he can, he tucks the covers around the vampire’s shoulders. He goes to gently tug at Sehun’s arm so that all his limbs are in bed, and is startled at the coolness his fingertips encounter. Shapeshifters usually run hot and with the memory of Jongin’s body heat wrapped around him, the vampire’s skin feels almost icy. It's so disconcerting, paired with the eerie stillness of his chest, the lack of breath, of sounds someone essentially _alive_ would make. Junmyeon’s never been this close to a sleeping vampire and he’s simultaneously repelled and intrigued. 

Sehun is beautiful, even in death—or maybe because of it. Everyone knows that the turning is more than just a transition from mortality into the undead. It’s going from human to the ultimate predator. Hundreds of years of evolution made sure of it: heightened strength and senses, the preservation of youth, an acquired otherworldly beauty. All at the price of blood and all for the sake of survival. 

So yes, Junmyeon knows better than to sneak into the room of a sleeping vampire, no matter how young. 

There’s danger here, in Jongin’s bed, sleeping soundly for now but once the sun sets and the moon rises, Junmyeon knows they need to be prepared. Still, he can’t seem to help himself. He lingers by the bedside, eyes captivated by the vampire undead to the world. There’s a pang in his chest, a little tender ache as he continues to watch Sehun sleep. It’s something he noticed last night, an illogical, absurd feeling. An urge to shelter the stranger he’d found bleeding and vulnerable. 

Junmyeon is aware he has a hero complex, but this feels like more than that. He tables the thought for later and exits the room as quickly and quietly as he can. 

Back in the kitchen, the coffee is done and Junmyeon gets to work on breakfast. He’s just about done plating the eggs when Jongin walks in. He’s shirtless, with his hair all in disarray and only pajama bottoms on. _A shame_ , Junmyeon thinks, especially when Jongin had been naked when he’d left the bed. 

“Good morning,” Junmyeon says, letting Jongin cling to him from behind, nuzzling into his neck. Jongin only grunts in response. Junmyeon is horribly endeared. “Are you going to work today?” Jongin takes a moment to answer, likely still processing Junmyeon’s question. 

“Nuh-uh,” he says, the words muffled into Junmyeon’s neck. “Too much going on around here.”

Junmyeon agrees, squeezing at Jongin’s arms around his middle. “Me too. Let’s eat.”

They spend the day lazily, though they do make a valiant effort not to spend all that time in bed. They make out in the kitchen after breakfast, Junmyeon starting off by trying to kiss the pout away from Jongin’s full mouth, puckered in disgust at the plain way Junmyeon takes his coffee. Junmyeon learns the way Jongin prefers _his_ coffee—with a lot of sugar and milk—and explores the sweet taste of it with his tongue. 

They migrate to the couch where Jongin loses his pajamas in favor of being bent over the armrest, panting as Junmyeon uses his tongue to explore the rest of his body. Junmyeon loves the taste of him, his scent the most potent and overwhelming between his legs, right where Junmyeon licks at his hole. He uses spit to work Jongin open with his thumbs, spreading his cheeks so he can lick inside. It’s not very deep but Jongin keens anyway, rubbing his dick against the side of the couch. The head of it is slick and leaking, and if they keep going it’s going to leave a stain. 

“Fuck me,” Jongin whimpers, “please, please, please- ”

Junmyeon plans on doing just that but there’s no rush. They have all day. So he redoubles his efforts, licks at Jongin’s hole and takes his cock in hand until he finds a rhythm that has Jongin sobbing, shaking beneath him. He makes sure to catch Jongin’s release in the palm of his hand, gushing through his fingers instead of the side of the couch. He licks his fingers after, uses the leftover slick to jerk his cock for a little relief before he pulls Jongin into his arms and then into the bedroom. 

Jongin whines at being left alone as Junmyeon takes a short detour into the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. When he gets back to the bedroom, Jongin has found the lube tucked away in his bedside table and proceeded to exact his revenge. 

He makes Junmyeon watch as he sinks two fingers in himself, threatening to stop if Junmyeon comes any closer. Junmyeon doesn’t dare disobey, though it’s a near thing when Jongin contorts himself on the bed, easy and flexible as he tries to find the best angle for his pleasure. He seems to find it best on his knees with his head hanging low between his shoulders, one hand gripping the headboard and the other buried between his legs. 

“Jongin,” Junmyeon pleads, voice hoarse and cock throbbing. “Jongin, let me do it.”

“Wanted you to fuck me outside and you didn’t,” he grits out, his tone petty even through the arousal. “Gotta do it myself.”

“Baby, no,” Junmyeon implores, his wolf whining in his head and the endearment slipping out unbidden. “Let me do it, I’ll do it right this time. C’mon Jonginnie, c’mon baby, let hyung fuck you, okay?”

Jongin groans then, a loud, desperate sound and then he’s throwing himself onto the bed, on his back with his legs spread open. Junmyeon takes that as his cue, rushes to where Jongin’s been begging for him to go. Junmyeon slows down just enough to lick at Jongin’s chest, savoring the salt of the sweat that accumulated in the space between his nipples, his collarbone. Then he gathers Jongin’s legs and hooks them over his elbows, let’s Jongin guide his cock inside him with a hastily lubed hand. 

Sinking into Jongin’s tight heat is akin to a religious experience. Junmyeon feels his wolf lose it, howling in triumph in the back of his mind, amidst the rush of blood between his ears. Jongin echoes the sound beneath him, crying out in pleasure when Junmyeon doesn’t hold back, fucks him exactly like he’d asked. Jongin writhes, calling out a combination of Junmyeon’s name, _hyung_ , and a string of curses when Junmyeon finds the right angle. Then Jongin is clawing at the sheets, clawing at Junmyeon, begging him not to stop, begging him to come. 

“That’s right, take it, take it,” Junmyeon mutters, thrusting his cock into Jongin as deep as it will go. He sacrifices rhythm for precision, grinding his hips into the spot that has Jongin sinking teeth into his shoulder, drawing blood as his body tightens around Junmyeon in one long, drawn out spasm. Junmyeon fucks him through it, sinks his leaking cock into Jongin’s tight hole until Jongin is a whimpering, mewling mess, begging Junmyeon to come already, to come inside him. 

“Hyung, hyung please,” Jongin gasps, red in the face and eyes damp with unshed tears. But Junmyeon can’t seem to stop, can’t do anything to halt the growl in his chest, the howl building in his throat. He feels almost feral, his wolf skirting the edges of his control, wanting to stake a claim, to make Jongin his. He feels the bulge at the base of his dick catch on Jongin’s rim and hisses. “Hyung, hyung is that- ”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry. Let me- ”

“No, no, no, I want it,” Jongin says, scrambling to pull Junmyeon back down before he pulls away. “Give it to me,” he says, “I want it. I want it—it’s _mine_ , give it to me.”

Junmyeon growls at the words he never imagined he’d hear. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Junmyeon says, struggling to hold his hips away. “Jongin, _stop_. We didn’t prepare enough.”

“ _No_ ,” Jongin growls back at him, eyes glowing bright yellow at Junmyeon’s denial. “ _Give it to me,_ ” he says, the words nearly sub-vocal. He wraps his legs around Junmyeon’s hips, making Junmyeon sink bank inside and unable to pull away. “I want it. Want your knot, it's _mine_.”

By then it’s not like Junmyeon has any choice. He shoves his knot into Jongin while he still can, his orgasm hitting him as soon as he’s buried once more in the tight heat of Jongin’s body. It’s a tightness that continues to grow just as his knot does, making Junmyeon howl in ecstasy as his body succumbs to instinct, to the need to breed. 

Junmyeon’s never knotted someone before, never felt the urge to tie someone to him as close as this. But Junmyeon knew right from the beginning that Jongin would be different, that he had the potential to make Junmyeon lose all his inhibitions and all of his control. His wolf had known too, and even if they can’t actually conceive this way—werewolf or not neither of their bodies were made to bear pups—it won’t stop his wolf from trying. 

He grinds his cock into Jongin until the younger wolf is spurting weakly from his spent cock as Junmyeon milks his prostate with his knot. His own orgasm feels like one long, drawn out free fall as he pumps Jongin full of cum, so full of it, so full until Jongin’s usually taut lower abdomen is rounded out. It’s a sight that makes Junmyeon moan and Jongin whimper at the fullness inside him. 

Junmyeon is useless when he finally stops coming, feeling needy and apologetic at the same time. He maneuvers their limbs as best he can so they’re at least somewhat comfortable as they wait for his knot to go down. “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry,” Junmyeon can hear himself babbling, wolf in his head no longer howling in triumph but contrite as Jongin winces beneath him. Junmyeon noses at his cheeks, distress building at Jongin’s obvious discomfort. 

“Hyung, it’s okay. Just—keep still,” Jongin says, voice a little hoarse. He palms Junmyeon’s shoulders, pulls Junmyeon’s face into the crook of his neck. Junmyeon and his wolf settle immediately. It’s emotional whiplash, going from half feral to all of his vulnerable threads laid bare. He's a slave to Jongin’s whims now, whether his husband realizes or not. 

They stay like that for almost half an hour before the knot goes down enough for Jongin to start leaking on the bed. Jongin’s fallen asleep, only stirring briefly to whine at Junmyeon when he tries to slip away. Junmyeon just kisses the furrow at his brow and waits until his breathing evens out again before he’s slipping out of bed to run the bath, taking his time. He’ll have to wake Jongin again soon anyway; no amount of damp towels will be enough to clean up the mess on the bed.

He rinses himself off quickly in the separate shower stall, mindful of the soreness in his thighs and the acute tenderness at the base of his dick. He’s only ever popped a knot a handful of times, only when he lets himself get really worked up. It’s a matter of control for him—knotting someone makes you vulnerable and sensitive. Junmyeon has seldom felt the need or want to be either. It feels right with Jongin though, and Junmyeon can’t wait until he has the opportunity to do it again. 

“Jongin,” he whispers, gently waking his sleeping husband. “Jongin-ah, wake up. We need to clean you up and change the sheets.”

Jongin takes some coaxing and a lot of kissing but eventually he lets Junmyeon pick him up and carry him into the tub. There Junmyeon sits him in his lap and cleans him up, gently soaping up and washing away the sticky mess that covered Jongin’s thighs. He’s especially careful with Jongin’s hole, the rim puffy and tender, and a little loose. Jongin whimpers against his chest when he slips a finger in easily, in and out, in and out. 

“Sorry, baby, does it hurt?” he asks, massaging the rounded curve of his ass to soothe. 

Jongin shakes his head, eyes glassy with sleep. “Sensitive,” he whimpers when Junmyeon’s fingers flutter back to his hole and circles the rim. “But feels good.” He drags one of Junmyeon’s wandering hands through the water and around, to where his dick gives a little twitch, going half hard when Junmyeon wraps delicate fingers around it.

“Yeah?” Junmyeon tips Jongin’s chin up, arousal burning through him hotter than the rapidly cooling water of their bath. “You wanna go again, baby?”

“Want you so much.” Jongin presses his mouth to Junmyeon’s in a kiss that takes his breath away. He won’t be able to fuck Jongin again just yet, not so soon after knotting him, but he can use his hands and his mouth. Jongin comes again while they’re pressed chest to chest, stuffed not quite full enough with three of Junmyeon’s fingers and Junmyeon’s hand wrapped around his cock. 

After, he’s so fucked out that Junmyeon has to sit him on the toilet and lean him against the bathroom sink just to strip the bed and change their soiled sheets. Junmyeon has to lay down extra padding where his cum had seeped into the mattress, but he’ll worry about their ruined bedding later. 

They don’t bother with clothes when the bed is ready, but Junmyeon does insist they drink plenty of water. It’s almost noon by then, but neither of them can even think about lunch, too sleepy and fucked out for food. Junmyeon knows they’ll regret it later, will probably resort to calling for takeout instead of something home cooked, but he finds he doesn’t care either way. All that matters is Jongin in his arms. He’ll worry about food and the slumbering vampire in another room later, after a much needed nap. 

“Why are you working?” 

Junmyeon looks up from the hard stare he'd been giving his computer screen to find Jongin shirtless once again, and only a pair of pajama bottoms haphazardly thrown on to protect any sort of modesty he might have had left. He’s frowning at Junmyeon, an adorable contrast to the absurd directions his hair is sticking up in. Junmyeon can’t help but smile at him fondly, pushing back against the desk to make room for Jongin to sit in his lap. 

“Did you sleep well?” Junmyeon nuzzles into Jongin’s neck, inhaling deeply, chest rumbling at their combined scents. Not even their earlier bath could diminish it, sunk so deep into Jongin’s skin. It’s a scent that will linger and Junmyeon plans to make it permanent by fucking Jongin as many times as his husband will allow.

“I was until you decided to leave the bed.” Jongin nips at his ear. He’s soothing the sting away with his tongue before Junmyeon can even complain. “Why are you working?” he asks again.

Junmyeon pinches a nipple right in front of him in retaliation, expecting teeth bared in his direction but instead he gets a lovely moan. He follows Jongin’s example and uses his mouth to soothe the sting, licking at first one nipple and then the other—for balance, of course. 

“Stop trying to distract me.” Jongin tugs at his hair to pull Junmyeon away but it's a halfhearted attempt at best. 

Reluctantly, Junmyeon relents. “It’s not really work,” Junmyeon says, wrapping his arms securely around Jongin’s middle and leaving one last kiss to the center of his chest. “It’s research.”

“On what?”

“On _whom_ ,” Junmyeon corrects. “On Sehun.”

Immediately Jongin looks more interested. “What did you find?”

“Not much.” At least nothing by way of public record. Parents dead, no friends, no social media. He’d be a ghost if he wasn’t such a familiar face in the clubs and bars downtown. 

“He’s been missing—possibly for weeks—and no one’s been looking for him?” Jongin looks distressed at the thought. 

Junmyeon nods sadly. “I don’t think he has anyone who’d be worried enough to look for him.”

“What about where he lives? His apartment?”

Junmyeon shakes his head again. “A rented room- ” a dump really, at least going by Jongdae’s report. “-just some clothes, barely any furniture. Nothing personal.” 

Jongin goes quiet, shoulders slumped, eyes far away as his finger fiddles with the loose collar of Junmyeon’s shirt—Jongin’s shirt, actually. “That’s sad,” Jongin says eventually. The words are low, quiet. “To think he was missing but he didn’t have anyone to look for him.”

It is sad, sad enough to fuel a niggling suspicion Junmyeon’s been trying not to think about, but he’d be a fool not to consider the possibility. What if Oh Sehun wasn’t a mere bystander, someone at the wrong place, at the wrong time? Junmyeon knows what loneliness can do—wolves are pack animals after all. They needed numbers to survive, a part of their nature. Lone wolves don’t last long in the wild. He’s found that people—humans—can be much the same. 

“You said you recognize him? That you knew him from the art center?”

“I recognize him, but I can’t say I know him. I helped him sign in once when one of my sister’s needed to step away from the front desk.”

“Did he ever come in with anyone?”

Jongin thinks for a moment. “No. Not that I can remember.”

Likely another dead end. “Well, Minseok and Jongdae are still investigating. Who knows, something might turn up.”

Jongin sighs. “Any word from Yixing hyung?”

Junmyeon sighs too. “Nothing yet. Which reminds me…” Junmyeon reaches for the top drawer on his desk and pulls out the pouch of glass vials Yixing had handed to him last night. 

“What’s that?” Jongin asks curiously. Junmyeon opens the pouch and lines up the bottles on his desk. There are seven in total, all filled with dark amber liquid. 

“This is for just in case,” Junmyeon says, using Yixing’s description. “Just in case Yixing doesn’t get back to us in time. Just in case I have to be a blood donor again.”

Jongin frowns at that. He picks up one of the small bottles. They’re no bigger than his thumb, rounded glass with metal caps. “Wolfsbane?”

Junmyeon nods. “The healing and replenishing kind.”

“Why are you the only one allowed to give blood?”

“Well, no, I suppose I’m not but- ”

“Then this is for _us_. Just in case _we_ have to be blood donors again.”

Junmyeon sits stunned, struck momentarily speechless. “Jongin, you don’t have to. I can- ”

“No, stop.” Jongin puts a hand over his mouth, effectively derailing Junmyeon’s argument. “Think about what you’re about to say. Think about the reasons you don’t want me to do it.” Jongin looks him in the eyes, searching. “Because I feel the exact same way.”

With his unoccupied hand Jongin lifts what used to be Junmyeon’s injured arm. He holds it delicately, presses his lips against the pulse at Junmyeon’s wrist, kisses a slow, gentle path up the forearm until his mouth grazes the inside of Junmyeon’s elbow. Long gone are the bandages, the mangled skin. All that’s left is the memory of the wound, not just in Junmyeon’s mind but in Jongin’s too. 

“I know I told you stop being so nice, stop being a fucking martyr,” Jongin whispers the words softly, tenderly. He presses his forehead against Junmyeon’s, still won’t let Junmyeon speak even when he tries. “But I’m under no impression that you’ll stop with either. Just don’t do it alone. You don’t have to. I don’t want you to. Let me help..”

Junmyeon licks at Jongin’s palm until the younger wolf is giggling, wiping his slick hand all over the cloth at Junmyeon’s shoulder. Junmyeon doesn’t think Jongin’s realized it’s actually his shirt. “Fair enough,” he says, playfully pinning Jongin’s arms behind his back. It puffs his chest out and elongates his back. He’s always considered Jongin a pretty picture, but never more so when he’s pink in the cheeks and letting Junmyeon manhandle him a little. “But it’s not a great experience, I’m warning you now.”

“Oh?” Jongin squirms in his lap, eyes glinting with mischief when he feels Junmyeon’s cock twitch under him. “Vampire bites are supposed to feel good.”

“I don’t think Sehun has been taught that particular trick yet.”

“Well then it looks like he’ll have us to practice on soon enough.”

They spend the next half hour making out like teenagers and Junmyeon doesn’t get any work done for the rest of the afternoon. Whether it’s rolling around in the sheets or going for a run around the perimeter of their territory, Jongin only has to pout, to frown, to allude to a suggestion and Junmyeon already considers his whims done. Jongin is just too enticing, too tempting, too much for Junmyeon’s touch-starved senses. Now that he’s allowed to have him, Junmyeon can’t seem to get enough. 

He and Jongin are coming back from a run, stepping out from the tree line, fresh from the thrill of the chase when Junmyeon pauses, something triggering his instincts. Jongin reaches for him, concerned. “What’s wrong?” He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t know what to say. It’s like an awareness that creeps up on him, a pressure that builds in his head, a tickle at the back of his mind that just snaps as soon as the sun sets. “Hyung?”

Something feels off in the air. Junmyeon breathes deep, filtering through the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the house and the surrounding area. He can’t quite pinpoint what’s causing the prickle going down his spine, but it makes him wary. Beside him, Jongin is scanning the edge of the woods behind the house, eyes golden and on high alert. 

“It’s nothing,” Junmyeon says finally, after another few minutes of quiet, the both of them still wary. “I’m just being paranoid.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

They make their way into the house quietly, most of the energy from their run dissipating under the warm shower they take together. They keep their hands to themselves for the most part, hunger for food driving them to behave. Junmyeon opts to finish first, pulling himself away from Jongin’s warm embrace to start on dinner. He’s on his way to the kitchen when his neck prickles as he’s passing by Jongin’s room. He stops in front of the bedroom door, something more than just paranoia making him unable to move past it. 

“Sehun?” He calls out, listening for any sound, any movement from the other side of the door. “Are you awake?” 

He doesn’t really expect an answer, so when he doesn’t get one, Junmyeon shrugs it off. There’s definitely something strange, but aside from the prickle of awareness, he hasn’t seen, heard, or smelled anything else that seemed off. He wants to peek into the room again but doesn’t want to be accused of invading the vampire’s space when he’s at his most vulnerable. Besides, he’s sure Sehun will make himself known as soon as he’s awake. The lust for blood won’t keep him in bed for very long. 

He forces himself away from the bedroom door and into the kitchen. He gets started on dinner, a simple stir fry with lots of chicken—Jongin’s favorite. Jongin joins him shortly after, smelling like warmed honey and it's a struggle for Junmyeon not to crowd him against the counter and kiss him senseless but they manage to put dinner on the table somehow. 

They’re done with dinner and sharing kisses on the couch when they both pause, the soft sound of a latch catching as a door swings closed is loud for their sensitive hearing. They don’t hear him coming, his steps silent as he approaches, but they feel the displacement of the air, the foreign scent of a vampire permeating the familiar smell of his and Jongin’s shared space. 

In all the time that Junmyeon’s known him, Sehun has always smelled like blood—faintly metallic, thick and almost cloying. Expected, considering the circumstances, but underneath that, Junmyeon thinks he detects something more subtle, vaguely earthy. It reminds Junmyeon of the forest in the shade right after a spring shower, damp and cool, not unpleasant per se, but unmistakably alien. 

He appears suddenly, a shadow watching, waiting from just beyond the circle of light coming from the television. That prickling awareness Junmyeon has had all evening comes back at full force when he sees the glassy look in the vamp’s eyes, pupils blown with the thinnest ring of glowing red for irises. Junmyeon watches as Sehun inhales deeply, chest rising and falling, the act deliberate despite being unnecessary. Then he’s leaning against the wall, eyes going half lidded. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, teeth clicking as he swallows audibly.

Jongin reacts first. “Are you okay?” He asks, sitting up and jostling Junmyeon from the warm circle of his embrace. Junmyeon has no choice but to follow, sitting up and peeking at the vampire over the couch. 

That glowing red gaze snaps to Jongin immediately. The laser focus makes both of them on the couch go very still, like deer caught in the headlights. For a few tense seconds no one moves. He and Jongin barely breathe. When nothing happens, Junmyeon clears his throat purposefully. 

“Did you sleep well? I went to check in on you this morning and I have to admit, I was a little disappointed you weren’t hanging from the ceiling like a bat.”

That comment earns him a little curl of the lip, the vampire flashing fang in displeasure. Good. At least it meant he isn’t totally incoherent, maybe just a little hungry and a little distracted by the looks of it. 

“You’ll have to excuse my ignorance. I’m not usually in close company with vampires. Why don’t you come sit and I can tell you a few cliches about werewolves.”

Sehun just watches them across the room for another long moment before he blinks and some of the glassiness from his eyes is replaced by confusion. “Fuck,” he mutters, gaze darting at his surroundings, from them huddling on the couch to him leaning against the wall in the hallway. “I’m sorry, I- ” And then he’s gone, nothing but a blur out the corner of Junmyeon’s eye followed by the loud slamming of Jongin’s bedroom door. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon calls out softly when he and Jongin follow right behind, concern warring with the wary stance their wolves have taken. Junmyeon’s wolf has teeth bared in displeasure, prowling restlessly in the back of his mind. He knows Jongin’s is the same, the nervous energy pouring through him agitating Junmyeon’s wolf even further. “Are you all right?”

He tries the door but this time it’s locked and although It’s a flimsy excuse for a barrier between two wolves and a vampire, Junmyeon doesn’t think the situation warrants any kind of door smashing—yet. 

“Are you hungry? Do you want to feed?”

He and Jongin look at each other helplessly, hoping they get a response. Even with their sharp hearing they can barely hear the footsteps, frantic pacing from the sounds of it. Back and forth, back and forth, around and around the generous floor space of Jongin’s bedroom. 

“Go away, don’t come in here,” Sehun calls out finally when Junmyeon rattles the doorknob again. “It’s not safe. I’m- I’m- ”

There’s a heavy thud from behind the door and he and Jongin share a look of alarm. 

“Hyung—”

“Jongin, go grab a blood bag from the fridge okay? Maybe two.”

“But what—”

Junmyeon presses a finger to his lips and Jongin doesn’t continue, just watches as Junmyeon mouths _trust me_ and urges him away. Jongin obeys, but not without a familiar scowl Junmyeon hasn’t had directed at him in days. He hasn’t missed it. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon tries again, looking for the right words. “How long have you been awake?”

What little sound ceases from the other side of the door. There’s only complete silence. Junmyeon wills his heart to beat steady and true, knows the rhythm will betray his nerves if he lets it. 

“I don’t know why, but I think I felt it,” Junmyeon murmurs into the door, soft enough that the words are only a breath, only loud enough for Sehun’s ears. “You’ve been awake for a while now, haven’t you?”

The answer is faint but Junmyeon hears it nonetheless. “Yes.”

“You must be starving. Why don’t you open the door for me and you can feed.”

“How?” The question sounds a little louder, a little closer. “How do you know that?”

Junmyeon shrugs helplessly and then remembers the vampire can’t see him. “I don’t know either.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The words sound small and a little broken. It makes something ache in Junmyeon’s chest. 

“I know you don’t,” Junmyeon says just as Jongin comes back with two blood bags in hand. He’s snipped off a corner from each of them and the smell of blood in the air gets stronger, more potent. “But fighting your hunger will only make it worse. At least open the door so we can give you food. I promise we won’t try to come in.”

He and Jongin wait, reeling in their anxious energy and trying to exude reassurance, suppressing their instinct to push and confront the danger just behind the bedroom door. Slowly, they hear movement from the other side, shuffling like Sehun was dragging himself across the floor. Soon enough comes the sound of the lock turning and they stand back, watching as the door cracks open. A pale hand reaches out of the small opening. 

“Please.”

Jongin throws Junmyeon a questioning look and Junmyeon nods, gesturing for him to go ahead.

The door slams closed as soon as the bags of blood are within reach and then there’s nothing but silence once again. 

“Should we...?”

Junmyeon shakes his head, casting one last lingering look at the closed door before leading Jongin away. “Let’s leave him alone for now. It’s obvious he’s been through a lot and needs time to adjust.”

“Is he going to be okay in there?”

Junmyeon doesn’t, but he also doesn’t know how to tell Jongin how he knows that. He doesn’t know how to explain the prickle of awareness he has towards Sehun, or how he knows about things he shouldn’t. Junmyeon stifles a sigh. “Why don’t we get ready for bed? We can check on him a little bit, after he’s fed.”

Jongin hesitantly agrees, following Junmyeon into their own bedroom. They’re both clearly distracted all throughout the act of shedding their clothes and showering together. Even after, when they’re both finally in bed, for the first time since Junmyeon came home injured and bloody, Jongin feels more than distracted, he’s distant. He keeps to his side of the bed, not curling into Junmyeon’s, just lying flat on his back lost in thought. 

Junmyeon can’t stand the thought of them being any farther apart. He turns to Jongin, fingers resting tentatively on his hip at first, and when he isn’t pushed away, he rubs a questing palm across his abdomen. The muscles tighten and jump under his touch but still Jongin lets him. 

“Jongin-ah, what’s wrong?” He leans over his husband, pressing his lips over the trail of his palm, resting his chin over Jongin’s heart after one last kiss. 

“Nothing,” Jongin shakes his head after a moment. “It just feels weird, I guess, to have someone else in the house. I mean, I knew he was here, but seeing him again, awake this time was just...strange.”

Junmyeon wants to ask him more questions, like what he means by _strange_ , but then Jongin is demanding more kisses, demanding Junmyeon’s attention in the way that Junmyeon is all too willing to indulge. 

Their lovemaking is slow this time, sweet. Junmyeon slips fingers into Jongin until the younger wolf is shaking, begging for release, begging for Junmyeon to fuck him. Junmyeon does, nice and slow, with Jongin’s thighs thrown around his hips and their fingers entangled in the sheets. He doesn’t knot him, though Jongin does beg for it prettily, all the way to the end. But Junmyeon wants to savor Jongin’s body under his without the urgency of a knot, without being distracted with the need to mount him and breed. There’ll be time for that later, when it’s just them again, when this whole vampire business is over and dealt with. 

Which isn’t to say the sex isn’t good—because it’s more than good, it’s _amazing_. Junmyeon’s never felt so connected to anyone like he does when he’s thrusting into all of Jongin’s tight spaces, making room for himself in Jongin’s body and calling it home. The way Jongin moans his name leaves him breathless and giddy, making him ignore his own pleasure just to witness it ripple through Jongin’s body and his face. He fucks Jongin until his husband is teary eyed and quaking. 

That’s how Junmyeon comes—to the thoughts of _my husband_ and Jongin whimpering in his ear. 

He’s panting when he pulls out, heaving for breath that catches when Jongin reaches between his legs to where Junmyeon’s cum is leaking out of him. 

“It’s coming out,” he whines, trying to stuff his fingers back in. 

Junmyeon feels a growl rumbling in his chest, his wolf ridiculously pleased. He leans down to lick at Jongin’s fingers apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t knot you, baby. I will, next time.”

If they weren’t so tired, Jongin would have his way and _next time_ would mean _right now_. But all their bedtime activities have worn them out, as well as their run earlier in the day. Jongin falls asleep as soon as Junmyeon cleans him up, not even stirring when Junmyeon climbs back into bed and makes him the little spoon. 

And Junmyeon tries to sleep, he really does. He dozes on and off for an hour or two, going by the clock on the bedside table, but he can’t seem to stay asleep like he wants. There’s that prickling sense of awareness in his mind again, keeping him awake, making him cognizant of Sehun’s presence in another part of the house. 

Junmyeon lays there unable to fall asleep for only a little while longer before the frustration gets the better of him. He’s careful not to wake Jongin on his way out of bed even if it’s a struggle. His eyes linger on his husband’s prone form, the low light of the moon streaming in from the window throwing every curve and muscle into stark relief. By the time he’s done looking, Junmyeon has to force himself away.

Junmyeon walks out of the bedroom and into the hallway without turning on any lights, relying on his familiarity with the layout of the house and his wolf-sharp senses to navigate the darkness. It’s with those heightened senses that he makes a detour for the basement instead of making his way to the other side of the house to get to Jongi’s bedroom. Sehun’s cool, earthy scent is fresh in the direction of the den.

His wolf goes on alert immediately, that prickling awareness back in full force. Junmyeon has to wrangle for control for a moment, trying to remind his wolf that the vampire is not a threat, and that they could handle him even if he was. His wolf fights rational reasoning of course, because it isn’t wary for itself or Junmyeon. It’s wary for Jongin. Even so, Junmyeon has long fought for and won control. By the time he’s made his way downstairs, his wolf has been carefully locked away where it can’t interfere.

Junmyeon finds Sehun in the den, sitting in the corner with reinforced silver in the walls. It looks like he’s found the chains as well, though it doesn’t seem like he’s managed to loop the manacles around his wrists yet. It just sits there on his lap, his fingers looking surprisingly delicate in contrast to the thick silver links. 

Junmyeon goes no further into the room than the doorway, leaning against it as he watches Sehun fiddle with his hands. The vampire makes no move to acknowledge him and they stay quiet for a long time. Junmyeon can only wonder what’s going on in his head, what terrible thoughts circle and linger long enough to lead him down into the basement contemplating chaining himself up. 

“It’s getting late,” Junmyeon says after a while. “You should come up soon.”

“I want to stay here,” Sehun answers without hesitation, chains rattling where he holds them too tightly. 

Junmyeon shakes his head. “This is no place for a guest.”

“I’m not a guest. It’s dangerous to let me wander around.”

“You aren’t the only dangerous person in this house,” Junmyeon says. “You can’t hurt me more than I let you.”

“I almost hurt you earlier,” Sehun says, voice sounding hollow. “I was so close to tearing your throats out on the couch. You have no idea how close.”

“But you didn’t,” Junmyeon reminds him. “You don’t want to hurt us. That’s what makes you a _guest_ instead of some kind of prisoner.” Junmyeon winces at the word, the way it hits too close to home considering the circumstances and the room they're in.

“It’s not going to be enough,” Sehun says, chains rattling as he throws them onto the floor. He wraps his arms around his knees, makes himself look small in the corner. He closes his eyes and buries his head in his arms. “The blood in your fridge. It’s not going to be enough.”

“I know.”

Sehun scoffs, the sound bitter and incredulous. “You know? How can you know? You have no idea.”

Junmyeon enters the room carefully, more out of deference to Sehun’s obvious need for space rather than fear of being attacked. Junmyeon knows what it’s like to be afraid of your own skin, the potential to lose control and become a monster instead. Junmyeon may not know exactly the kind of bloodlust Sehun’s feeling but he does know about hunger, about losing control. Sometimes the only way to gain control and tame the gnawing ache is to give in to the impending chaos churning inside and let it remake you and mold you into something else. 

“Stop. Don’t- don’t come any closer.”

Junmyeon is barely inside, having gone no further than a few steps beyond the door. “Let me just sit on the bed. It’s hard to have a conversation from all the way across the room.”

“No,” the word is almost pleading. “Just- go away!”

“Only if you come with me,” Junmyeon says. “Only if you come back upstairs.”

Sehun lifts his head but only to shake it frantically. “No. No, it’s too close. You guys are too close.” Sehun closes his eyes again and whimpers into the circle of his arms, knees still pressed tightly to his chest. “I could hear you,” he whispers. “When you and Jongin- ” Sehun has to press his lips together, coming away stained with blood tainting the air faintly when he’s finally able to continue.“I could hear when you were fucking. I smelled it. I tasted it. I _felt_ it.”

Junmyeon blinks at him, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

Sehun continues as if Junmyeon hadn’t spoken. He starts to rock himself back and forth, looking more distraught by the second. “Even when I’m asleep, during the day when I should have been dead to the world, I- I could feel it. Feel you both. And you smell so— _good_ , so _hard_ to resist.”

He’s trembling by the time he finishes speaking. Against his better judgment, Junmyeon joins the vampire huddled in the corner, stopping just a few feet away. All the silver in the walls makes him itchy this close, but he ignores the minor discomfort. 

“He starved me, you know?” 

Before Junmyeon can come any closer Sehun speaks again, eyes all pupil with only a thin ring of red for irises. It’s the look he’d had before he’d fled into the bedroom in an attempt to lock himself away. It’s a look that makes Junmyeon pause as much as his words. “Kept me hungry for weeks, and would only let me feed from him. Little by little. Never enough. He kept me hungry so that I wouldn’t try to escape. If I was good, he’d bring a stranger around and he’d bite them, force me to watch as he drained them in front of me. My reward was to lick the floor after he’d dragged them away.”

Junmyeon listens on in alarm, horrified and increasingly wary of the glassy look seeping into Sehun’s eyes. Sehun doesn’t seem to hear him. 

“The night you found me was the first time he let me out. He'd been starving me for days. He told me he’d find me someone and I could feed as much as I wanted. But then he- ” Sehun stops, hands fisted and pressing hard against his head. Junmyeon doesn’t dare stop him. This is the most he’s heard Sehun speak. Junmyeon can stand to hear every gruesome detail. 

Sehun whimpers and it's clear there’s a memory that haunts him, demons only he can see. Junmyeon’s chest aches something fierce, an internal throbbing that starts as Sehun is finally able to continue. “H-he brought a little girl—a child,” he whispers brokenly, “He said that if I didn’t like the gift he’d brought, he’d get me another one. Even starving, I couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting a child so I fought back. I told him no. A-and he attacked me.”

“And the child?” 

Sehun shakes his head. “I saw her run away when he started attacking but I-I don’t know if she survived. If he went after her when he was done with me.”

Junmyeon’s throat is so dry he struggles to swallow for a moment. Maybe Sehun was right. Maybe Junmyeon has no idea after all, about the kind of hunger he speaks of.

“You asked us yesterday, why we’re helping you,” Junmyeon dares to come closer, dares to go on his knees in front of the distressed vampire and reach for him. He puts a steadying hand on Sehun’s shoulder and can feel his restraint, the trembling of taut muscles being held back. “Because you need it. Because we can.” Junmyeon echoes Jongin’s words from yesterday with new found conviction. “And because you probably saved that little girl’s life.”

“I don’t even know if she’s alive,” Sehun protests, eyes filled with tears. Junmyeon wipes one away with his thumb and the vampire shudders under his touch. 

“You also don’t know if she’s dead. The possibility is enough.”

“S-stop—what are you doing?” Sehun tries to get away from Junmyeon’s arms slinging around his shoulders. Junmyeon doesn’t let him. 

“You’re still hungry, aren’t you?” he says, fingers gently cupping the back of Sehun’s neck and baring his own throat. “Go ahead. Drink.”

Sehun has more restraint than he gives himself credit for because he doesn’t maul Junmyeon’s neck like Junmyeon expects. Instead, he buries his head in the junction between Junmyeon’s neck and his shoulder, licks slowly along the column of Junmyeon’s throat. Junmyeon doesn’t want to be moved by the action but his heart skips a beat nonetheless, slipping from his control. 

That’s when Sehun bites down, piercing skin. Junmyeon groans, his wolf howling indignantly in his head as the pain of the bite lances through him. 

Sehun drinks, inelegant and messy, exactly as Junmyeon _had_ expected. It’s a little more controlled than the other night at least, or so Junmyeon thinks. Maybe it’s because Sehun had already fed from two blood bags earlier but this time doesn’t feel as desperate or crazed. It also helps that Sehun isn’t a dead weight in his arms, not just a cold almost-corpse in some dingy alley Junmyeon hoped to save. Junmyeon knows him now, just a little bit, and knowing him inflates his hero complex, makes him want to help Sehun even more. 

“Okay, slow down,” Junmyeon says when he starts to feel a little light headed. He pats Sehun on the head, puts pressure on his neck when the vampire’s mouth doesn’t ease up. “Sehun, Sehun—slow down, that’s- _ah_ \- ”

Junmyeon flinches when the vampire at his neck only bites down harder. He’s spilling more blood than he’s drinking and Junmyeon doesn’t relish the thought of having to rip him away, knowing he’ll likely cause himself more harm if he does. 

“Sehun, _Sehun_.” He tugs at the vampire’s hair, pulling harder and dislodging himself a little, teeth ripping through muscle. “Fuck,” Junmyeon swears. He didn’t think this through. He probably shouldn’t have offered to feed the half-starved vampire on his own. No good deed goes unpunished after all. He’s starting to get dizzy when he decides to make a last ditch attempt before resorting to violence. _**“Enough, Sehun. No more.”**_

For a second he’s afraid it doesn’t work, that he’ll really have to rip his own throat out to get Sehun off him. But then the vampire freezes against his chest, stops his sucking even if his teeth are still buried in Junmyeon’s flesh. Junmyeon tries again. _**“I said, no—more.”**_

Immediately the fangs retract with a slick squelch and Sehun is cowering back against the corner, clutching at his throat. It looks like he’s choking, eyes unfocused and staring at Junmyeon in fear. Junmyeon has to fight through the dizziness to reel his wolf back in, taking a deep calming breath to tame the beast ready to erupt through his skin. His wolf is angry for being locked away, angry at being made food. He is an alpha and alphas are not food.

Adrenaline and animalistic fury make Junmyeon’s vision go hazy with red, a glow echoed in Sehun’s gaze when Junmyeon’s wolf growls in his direction, jaws snapping. Junmyeon throws himself back before it's too late, a vicious howl letting loose from his chest as he wrangles for control. The howl is loud, ripping through the silence of the house. 

“Hyung—hyung!” 

Junmyeon turns in the direction of the voice, toward the smell of honeysuckle and sunshine. Jongin nearly bowls him over, crashes into him, the smell of _home_ , the smell of _mate_ calming his wolf down enough to let the crimson haze dissipate from his sight. It takes another long moment and the sound of Jongin’s heartbeat beneath his ear for Junmyeon to fully come back to himself, his wolf once again locked away to be dealt with later. 

“Hyung, what happened?” Jongin asks, dark eyes glowing bright with fear and churning anger. “You’re bleeding! Did he- _did he bite you?_ ” The last few words are no more than a growl, Jongin’s attention pulled to the vampire choking on blood only a few feet away.

Junmyeon grips his arm and shakes his head, struggling to draw back the last vestiges of his alpha power. Only when it’s finally under control does the vampire gasp, clawing at his neck to swallow the mouthful of blood that had been trapped in his throat. Sehun sees Jongin’s glowing eyes, panic-stricken as his gaze flits back and forth between them. 

Junmyeon groans, a hand on his neck to feel for the shape of Sehun’s mouth, the puncture wounds caused by his sharp teeth. “Jongin, stop. You’re scaring him.”

“He attacked you,” Jongin growls, eyes zeroing in on the blood running down Junmyeon’s chest. 

“No, he bit me because I let him. It got a little out of hand. Look,” he bares his throat to show Jongin. “They’re already closing up. I’m fine. Sehun- ”

At the sound of his name the vampire whimpers, presses himself low to the ground, forehead touching the floor even as he cowers in the corner. “I’m sorry,” he says, over and over. “I-I’m sorry.”

Junmyeon sighs and shuffles over to him, Jongin stalking right behind. Sehun flinches at their shadow, makes a pitiful noise when Junmyeon reaches for him. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Junmyeon says with a firm hand to his quaking shoulder. Sehun squeezes his eyes shut when the hand hovers over his face, resting gently on his cheek. “No one is going to hurt you here. Come on now, let’s get cleaned up.” He urges Sehun off the floor. Junmyeon is a little unsteady himself but with Jongin’s help, everyone is able to sit upright and move to the bed. 

Jongin is silent as he gathers them damp towels from the small bathroom in the den. He’s got an unsubtle look of fury on his face and won’t look Junmyeon in the eye as he helps wipe the blood away first from Junmyeon, and then with more hesitation, Sehun. He mutters to himself as he makes Sehun remove his shirt, the clothing covered in so much blood it's pretty much a lost cause. He grabs a random shirt from the small dresser in the room and hands it over to the vampire with a little more force than necessary. Junmyeon can feel Jongin seething and knows they’ll have another out of control werewolf problem on their hands if he doesn’t get an explanation soon. 

“Do you still want to stay down here for tonight?” Junmyeon asks Sehun gently, still mindful of the vampire’s fearful eyes. Sehun nods, whimpering and trying to make himself small again, curling up with knees pressed to his chest as if they were going to drag him upstairs. “Alright,” Junmyeon says with another sigh. He stands, nodding at Sehun while keeping an eye on Jongin’s pinched expression. “We’ll talk more again tomorrow.”

Junmyeon makes a point of keeping the door to the den unlocked as he and Jongin exit, though he doesn’t think Sehun notices. While no place in the house is exactly out of earshot considering all three of the current occupants have preternatural hearing, Jongin at least waits until they’re in the bedroom before he lays into Junmyeon. 

“Are you- doing this on purpose?” Jongin asks, his tone deceptively calm. He’s pacing by the window and won’t look at Junmyeon when he passes close to the bed. 

Junmyeon sinks heavily onto the bed, sheets rumpled and still smelling like sex. He sighs. “I swear to God I’m not, Jongin.”

“Then _what the fuck_ , hyung?” Jongin erupts, finally faces Junmyeon with eyes blazing and the muscles of his neck bulging with barely controlled violence. His unbridled rage, barely in check, is suffocating. “Didn’t we talk about this already? Why would you deliberately put yourself in a position that has you bleeding out in our basement?”

“Jongin,” Junmyeon says, trying to focus. “I’m sorry. I finally got Sehun to tell me about what happened to him and things got out of hand.” He recounts the short version of Sehun’s story, taking care not to gloss over the most important parts—and the most terrible. “He didn’t attack me, okay?” Junmyeon tries to emphasize. “This was my fault. I’m the one who’s wrong. We sort of talked about it but I should have waited for you before trying to offer to feed him myself.”

Jongin is silent throughout Junmyeon’s explanation, and even when Junmyeon is clearly finished, he doesn’t say anything for a long time. His nostrils are still flaring when he finally says, “I’m too angry to talk to you right now.”

Junmyeon winces internally. He probably deserves that. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, not knowing what else to say. 

Jongin shakes his head angrily. “Yeah, me too.” He heads for the door and Junmyeon’s heart squeezes.

“Where are you going? Jongin? Fuck- ” Junmyeon curses, running a hand through his hair. He’s torn between going after Jongin and giving him his space. Everything is still so new between them, he isn’t sure which is the right thing to do. 

A door slams somewhere in the back of the house and Junmyeon prays Jongin is only going out to let off some steam and that he’ll be back soon. Junmyeon doesn’t have the energy to run after him just yet. 

With another heavy sigh, Junmyeon finds his way to the bathroom for a quick shower to rinse away the metallic scent of blood that lingers on him. He’s loath to wash away the scent of Jongin’s skin but he can’t ignore the earthy smell of Sehun that had stuck to him as well. A cool breeze through a damp forest—that’s what Sehun reminds him of, so different from Jongin’s sweet warmth. Both scents just make Junmyeon ache right now, a hollow throbbing in his chest. It doesn’t help that his wolf is unhappy as well, sulking and snarling at being locked away in the mental cage Junmyeon has erected to keep it at bay. He itches with discomfort—his heart, mind, body and soul at odds with one another and the conflict pulls at his skin, stretching Junmyeon’s carefully crafted control and wearing it thin.

He has half a mind to go chasing after Jongin in the woods, if only to release some of his own pent up anxiety, but his body is too tired. Sehun’s bite had left no marks, the skin already healed but the small area is still tender to the touch. The wounds may have closed, but it’ll take his body longer to replenish his blood and life force. 

Jongin is still nowhere to be found when he’s done in the shower. The prickling awareness he’s come to realize is his strange connection to Sehun warning him that dawn is coming soon. It’s added pressure to the heavy feeling building in his head, a mixture of exhaustion and blood loss. Junmyeon’s experienced too many headaches in the past few weeks than a werewolf should ever have. 

He grabs a vial of Yixing’s special wolfsbane from his office and downs the bitter liquid in one shot. The taste lingers on his tongue no matter how much water he washes it down with. Then he gets into bed, noses around in the space Jongin left behind, buries his head where Jongin’s scent is most potent and prays for sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Junmyeon is so used to sleeping and waking up alone he’s startled when Jongin’s large wolf sidles up to him in bed, rousing him from a deep, dreamless sleep. Jongin curls around him with a whine, enveloping him in warm fur and his honeysuckle scent while nosing at where he’d been bitten. Junmyeon clings to him groggily, his relief palpable at having Jongin back in bed. He doesn’t know what time it is—Jongin won’t let him turn his head towards the clock sitting at their bedside table. He’s busy with his rough tongue licking at the crook of Junmyeon’s neck, where the skin is still tender. Junmyeon bares his throat, hissing when Jongin’s sharp canines nibble along his shoulder, leaving wet bruises that fade much too quickly. 

Junmyeon doesn’t dare complain. He lets Jongin do what he wants, rubbing his cheek along the underside of the other wolf’s muzzle to scent him in return. They really should talk, use their words instead of relying on animal instinct to get them through their issues, but Junmyeon tables those thoughts for later. He’ll leave the responsibility for the morning, relishing Jongin’s embrace while he can. Jongin in wolf form has no problem with showering Junmyeon in affection, but he knows Jongin the man will be less forgiving—and rightfully so. 

Junmyeon is so used to caring for others, for the members of his pack that he isn’t used to watching out for himself. He’s never had someone to worry about whether he’s broken bones or spilled his blood, not if it was something that needed to be done. Junmyeon has always been more than willing to lend his body for the benefit of the cause, regardless of whether or not his actions were dangerous. It's a method that's served him well in the past, though he’s learning more and more that it's not a method he can continue. Not when he has Jongin to think about. Not when Jongin is thinking about him. 

Junmyeon falls back asleep whispering apologies into Jongin’s fur. 

The next time Junmyeon wakes, it's to a pounding bass and a harsh beat thrumming through the walls. Loud music, like the kind he remembers from the clubs downtown, blasts from somewhere outside the bedroom, jerking him abruptly from sleep. 

With a groan, Junmyeon tosses and turns in bed, disappointed at being the only one in it, even if he’d expected it. 

Yixing’s wolfsbane concoction really must work because Junmyeon feels more energized than he should after only four hours of sleep and having had a vampire gnawing at his neck. He drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom to wash his face and use the toilet before forcing himself to face the music, or so to speak. Junmyeon is aware of just how many unresolved issues he and Jongin have between them. He has confidence enough in their tenuous new bonds to be able to work through each and every one of those issues one day, but he knows exactly which one they need to deal with right now. 

Junmyeon follows the music to where its loudest—the living room. It’s turned up so high that he can feel the bass booming with every step, his heart jolting at the vibrations. This is the kind of music Junmyeon recognizes from when Jongin is running away into the basement, though since it’s currently occupied, he gets why Jongin sets up in the living room instead. 

He’s pushed some of the furniture up against the walls to create more space, enough foot room to accommodate the choreographed steps he takes. For a while Junmyeon just stands there, unable to keep his eyes off Jongin’s sharp moves, the control he has over his body truly astounding. Junmyeon finds himself questioning how anyone could move like that, smooth but purposeful. Powerful. Eye catching. Junmyeon’s always wanted to see Jongin dance like this, and now that he has the chance he can’t seem to look away. 

Maybe he’s still delusional from the blood loss, but he can’t help but think Jongin is breathtaking even when he looks untouchable. His sweat glistens underneath the rays of sunlight coming in from the open windows, making his skin light up golden and beautiful. He’s shirtless, only in loose sweatpants barely hanging onto his hips by a flimsy knot hanging well below his belly button. The heat and activity makes him smell sweet and musky, so enticing, as if he were a shop full of candy and Junmyeon in possession of a sweet tooth. 

Junmyeon expects to be ignored when the music cuts off, signalling the end of the song. Jongin’s panting, out of breath and so tempting even when he’s narrowing his eyes at Junmyeon when he finds him watching. He’s silent when their eyes meet, the expression on his face unreadable. It’s not an outright dismissal though, a chance Junmyeon is uncertain he actually deserves. 

“Jongin…” Junmyeon approaches slowly, palms up and head tilted to the side, neck bared and vulnerable. His wolf is quiet; it has no qualms groveling in submission, not in front of Jongin, not in front of their mate. 

If Jongin is surprised, his face doesn’t show it. He looks down his nose at Junmyeon, chin tilted haughtily in the air, trying to look intimidating. He still doesn’t speak, just lets the silence fester between them until it’s Junmyeon who has to close the distance, to bow his head and reach out. Jongin remains unmoved even when Junmyeon leans his forehead against his shoulder, head tilted in an angle that keeps his neck bared as he noses tentatively along the line of Jongin’s clavicle. 

When Jongin still doesn’t push him away Junmyeon curls into him, tries to make himself small in ways he isn’t used to, let’s the hint of a whine escape him when he repeats, “Jongin…”

That seems to get a reaction. Jongin’s heart rate picks up under his ear the same time his scent shifts into something slightly mellower, still musky sweet and potent, but less intimidating. 

“I’m sorry,” Junmyeon says, lifting his chin, wanting to let Jongin see his sincerity. He presses in closer until they’re chest to chest and he can wrap his arms loosely around Jongin’s waist. 

Jongin’s jaw tightens, looking anywhere but at Junmyeon. After a beat and a sharp inhale he says, “I don’t like it when you get hurt.” The words are halting, gritted out. Junmyeon doesn’t need heightened senses to understand the weight of them. “Even before we decided to start over—even when we weren’t getting along I- I,” Junmyeon feels more than sees the way Jongin’s hands clench at his sides, the way his body vibrates with suppressed outrage. “I couldn’t stand the idea of you fighting for dominance, putting yourself in danger when I had _no idea_. It made me feel _crazy_. _Out of control_. And that was when I was trying _not_ to care about you.” 

Displeasure rolls off Jongin in waves, enough to taint the air around them with bitterness. Junmyeon has a visceral understanding of what he means; he’d considered Jongin _his_ even before he’d had the right to. Now that they’ve decided to start over, the endless possibilities just multiplies his irrational possessiveness, exacerbating the instinctive drive to make sure Jongin is happy and healthy, protected and provided for. Junmyeon hadn’t realized the feelings could be mutual and it blows his mind, makes him even sorrier.

“I get it,” Junmyeon says, squeezing Jongin, wanting to crawl under his skin so Jongin knows the depth of his understanding and his regret. “I didn’t realize you might have felt that way.”

“And I know that’s my fault, too,” Jongin says with a curt nod and a sharp intake of breath. “In the past I’ve been... _difficult_ on purpose. I want to be better, I want _us_ to be better.” Jongin pulls back just enough to finally meet Junmyeon’s searching gaze. “But it’s hard when you put yourself in unnecessarily dangerous situations like last night.”

Junmyeon can’t help but be surprised by Jongin’s honesty, his words simple but eloquent. All he’d known of Jongin was bitterness and resentment; Junmyeon only recently uncovered the sweetness underneath. To discover another facet of him pleases Junmyeon in ways he can’t entirely put to words. It gives him hope that the tentative bonds they’ve built between them are more than just physical, more than just their wolves finding each other compatible. 

“I understand. I’ll try my best not to get hurt or put myself in unnecessarily dangerous situations.” 

Junmyeon will do his best to ensure his words aren’t just empty promises, but it still hurts to see the way Jongin closes his eyes and sighs. “That’s all I ask.”

Junmyeon knows there’s more to it than that, knows that this is a conversation they’ll have to revisit again, maybe over and over, but instead of dreading the idea, he might actually look forward to it. He and Jongin are building something here, a foundation made up of more than just instinct and physical compatibility. He stretches up to press his lips against the underside of Jongin’s jaw, seeking his mouth. Jongin resists for just a moment before tilting his chin down and letting their lips catch. The kiss that follows is soft, not as heated as the ones they’ve shared in the course of the last few days, but it's just as compelling. 

Jongin finally loosens up, finally drapes his arms around Junmyeon’s neck and let’s Junmyeon kiss him with intent. He walks Jongin backwards until the back of his knees touch the couch, guiding him to sit and sliding into Jongin’s lap, all without breaking their kiss. Within minutes, Jongin’s touch ignites a fire in Junmyeon he’s not keen on controlling or putting out. Every kiss stokes the flames and everywhere they touch feels like sparks just waiting to burst into an inferno. 

Junmyeon straddles his lap, putting them chest to chest, losing his sleep shirt in the transition. He’s up on his knees, rolling his hips and earning a hiss, followed by a pleased moan. He can feel Jongin’s erection grow hard beneath him, his hands everywhere and all at once. He licks against Junmyeon’s sternum and latches onto a nipple, sucking at it, laving it with his tongue, making Junmyeon gasp. Junmyeon holds onto the back of the couch to steady himself, knees weak at the onslaught of pleasure brought about by Jongin’s mouth, by the large hands splayed across his ribs, by the muscles that shift and tighten when they move together. The smell of Jongin is intoxicating, made even more so by the salt of his sweat still clinging to his skin, driving Junmyeon crazy as it fills his nostrils and clouds his senses. 

Arousal makes him fumble with the elastic of his pajamas, pulling them down just enough to rub his cock against the ridges of Jongin’s abdomen. Jongin scrambles to do the same with his sweatpants, pulling at the strings and down his hips. They both groan when their cocks brush and Junmyeon uses two hands to line them up and press them together. It's a little too dry, even with both of them leaking at the tip, but fuck if it doesn’t feel good. Jongin is thick in his palms, even if they’re similar in length, and his fingers aren’t quite long enough to wrap around them both. Jongin realizes this the same moment Junmyeon does because his hips jerk, pulling Junmyeon tight against him as he gasps, “Wanna fuck you, hyung.”

“Y-yeah?” Junmyeon stutters, stomach tightening at the same thought. “You want to?” He strokes them one handed, the other pulling off to drag one of Jongin’s hands to his mouth, sucking on the three longest digits and licking at the palm. Jongin’s unoccupied hand grips Junmyeon’s thigh hard enough to ache as Junmyeon flicks his tongue between the digits. 

When Jongin’s hand is wet enough, Junmyeon uses it to slick the way, tangling their fingers to jack them off together. “You’d feel so good inside me,” he mutters, almost to himself, so focused on the molten ball of pleasure weighing heavy in his gut. “You’d fuck me so well.”

“I would- ” Jongin cries out, hips bucking into their joined hands with intent, as if he was fucking into Junmyeon already. 

“It’s been a while since I- _a-ahh_ , let anyone _mmf-_ ” he’s cut off by Jongin surging up to cover his mouth with his own in a kiss that all but has Junmyeon forgetting his name, almost makes him lose his train of thought as Jongin maps out the line of his teeth and the length of his tongue. “Want you to fill me up,” he says, panting the words as he clings with one arm around Jongin’s shoulders. He guides their hands to stroke faster, lost in the fantasy of his own making. “Want you to fuck me hard and come inside. Wanna be dripping with your cum.”

The words make Jongin’s cock throb, Junmyeon can feel it against his own. They’re both so close, both heaving with impending release. Jongin comes first, with a loud cry muffled into the tender side of Junmyeon’s neck, where Sehun had bitten him. For a moment, the scrape of teeth against the column of his throat has Junmyeon’s wolf rearing its head in outrage—then Jongin’s biting down and Junmyeon really starts howling. 

His mind goes blank as a pleasure so sharp pierces through him, leaves him writhing. For a second he can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move, can’t _feel._ Next thing he knows he’s splintering into a thousand fractured pieces, coming so hard he loses sense of time and space, mind rolling in blissful circles for what feels like forever. 

He comes back to the present slowly, like molasses. 

First it’s sound, the pounding of his heart and Jongin’s loud in his ears. Their breaths are ragged and harsh, an off beat staccato that no amount of measured counting could slow. Vision comes next, and Junmyeon is blinking away stars as he tries to focus his eyes, catching onto the welts he’d clawed onto Jongin’s back. They’re healing slowly even as he watches.

“ _Whoa_ ,” Jongin whispers shakily, the word muffled into Junmyeon’s neck. 

Junmyeon returns the sentiment. “ _Whoa._ ” He struggles with a response more coherent than that, eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head at the way Jongin’s words press into the skin where he’d bitten down. Junmyeon doesn’t think he broke skin but it feels sensitive—even just the short puffs of Jongin’s breath sends shivers down his spine, aftershocks of pleasure that are as confusing as they are tantalizing. 

Jongin doesn’t miss the shudder that racks through him when he uses his tongue to trace the shape of his teeth. He lifts his head enough to replace his tongue with a delicate forefinger, eyes curious and too lucid after the kind of orgasm they’d just had. 

Junmyeon is more than a little biased at this point, but he thinks Jongin might be a literal angel with the way he accepts his muffled plea for _later, okay?_ and proceeds to carry Junmyeon back into the bedroom and to their bathroom to clean up. 

It’s not so much that Junmyeon is trying to evade giving answers, it's that he’s not really sure he has them—or rather he’s not sure what the questions are exactly. 

Significantly less sticky, they have breakfast, a meal Junmyeon always enjoys but this morning he finds himself particularly ravenous. It’s likely due to his body working double time to replenish the blood he’d lost. Werewolf or not, a vampire bite isn’t like breaking bones or hurting himself by some other mundane human occurrence. There’s a preternatural quality to it, something that negates a werewolf’s naturally quick healing abilities. Just because he doesn’t have any open wounds anymore doesn’t mean Junmyeon isn’t still recovering. 

It’s still strange, however, the way his neck throbs only in one place, delicate and sensitive enough that Junmyeon forgoes wearing a shirt. Even the soft, worn fabric of his favorite emotional support sweater feels too rough around the collar. 

Jongin only gives him until they’re back on the couch, legs tangled on the shorter loveseat and cradled together before he starts pushing. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, tracing the sensitive spot in question, looking somewhat fascinated by the way Junmyeon’s spine curls at every pass of his fingers. 

And really, Junmyeon doesn’t quite know how to answer that. “It’s sensitive,” he says, not very helpfully. 

“This is where he bit you, right?” 

Junmyeon nods. “There’s more to it than that, I think.”

He starts off slowly, hesitantly, voicing his niggling thoughts and suspicions. He’s not used to explaining his thought process to others, at least not to people who weren’t his Second or his Third. Yixing is pretty good at picking at his brain too, even if it’s more about personal topics and internal reflection instead of pack hierarchy or logistics. Opening up to Jongin feels strange. Everything about him pulls at Junmyeon’s heartstrings, the very fiber of his being, with the instinct to protect him—instinct tells Junmyeon to protect Jongin even from things that might upset him or cause him any turmoil. From Junmyeon himself.

But the same way Jongin wants to be better for their sake, Junmyeon wants to do better too. He knows Jongin is an adult and doesn’t need coddling or shielding. Jongin is as much a wolf as he is, alpha instincts or not, and a reliable one at that. All Junmyeon can do is try. 

So, cautiously, he tells Jongin about how he thinks he and Sehun are drawn to each other, connected somehow by way of the blood they’d shared, first when Sehun lay near dying, and then again last night, when Junmyeon had invited him to feed. He tells Jongin a little less confidently about the way Sehun had said he could feel them, flashes of sight and sound that shouldn’t be possible when he’s asleep during the day. He tells Jongin about the feeling of being watched, invisible eyes that followed them throughout their run the previous day. 

Jongin is quiet throughout, a pensive but unreadable look on his face. Not even his eyes give him away, no confusion or judgment, no flicker of anger or severe emotion to turn them bright. The only time they stray is when Junmyeon squirms against him, a reaction Junmyeon can’t suppress when Jongin brushes the sensitive area at his neck with his fingers, an increasingly deliberate gesture. 

“I don’t know enough about vampires or being bitten by one to know if this is normal or not,” Junmyeon says with another shudder. Jongin’s palm is warm on his neck, pressing down and not letting up. 

“It’s not,” Jongin says, tapping the patch of skin trapped beneath his fingers. 

“How do you know if it's normal or not?”

The pressure on Junmyeon's neck disappears as Jongin very carefully says, “Because I’ve been bitten by a vampire before.”

The silence that engulfs them after Jongin’s confession is all encompassing. Junmyeon feels his brows climb into his hairline the longer he tries to wrap his head around what Jongin had said.

“The guy I was in a relationship with before we had to get married,” he explains. “The relationship I told you was going nowhere. It was with a vampire. His name is Taemin.” Despite the nonchalant tone and the little half-hearted shrug he gives when Junmyeon gapes at him like a fish, he’s visibly uncomfortable. His eyes are no longer unreadable; instead he darts his gaze away, eyes lowered so his lashes obscure the emotion behind them. “He fed from me regularly when we were together and it never felt like much afterwards.”

Junmyeon suddenly has very many questions. His mind is running a mile a minute; _how_ is the predominant question, _why_ is the next. He allows himself only a few minutes to get his rampant thoughts under control, to wrangle the irrational jealousy and prejudice that are his automatic reactions. Junmyeon worked hard to remove as much of the biased conditioning that is still deeply ingrained in the lycanthrope community—he can’t be an advocate for change and be the face of the Coalition if he’s a speciest—but the undercurrent of bigotry is hard to shake. Even now, lycanthrope and vampire relations were frowned upon at best, never mind that vampires and lycanthropes have ceased their war against each other for over a century—Junmyeon can’t imagine the kind of sneaking around Jongin must have employed to keep his relationship with Taemin a secret. 

“Say something,” Jongin says quietly, the length of his body tensed against Junmyeon, clearly readying himself for fight or flight.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Junmyeon says gently, taking one of Jongin’s clenched hands in his and stroking at his knuckles for long minutes until they relax. He pulls Jongin’s head against his chest, the younger wolf’s ear pressed right against his heart. He wills Jongin to listen to the steady beat, to the sincerity he’s trying to convey. “I’m sorry. I was just- _surprised_ , which is a shame because I shouldn’t be. There’s nothing wrong with vampire and werewolf relationships.”

Jongin exhales deeply, the tension visibly leaching out of him. “You sound like those pamphlets the Coalition passes out.” The words are muffled against Junmyeon’s ribs, but the teasing tone is unmistakable.

“Hey! I actually helped write those pamphlets!” Junmyeon pokes Jongin in the side none too gently and his husband yelps, grumbling and threatening to push Junmyeon off the couch. Junmyeon latches onto Jongin like a barnacle, determined to take Jongin with him if he makes good on his threat. 

They spend a ridiculously long time scuffling on the couch, wrestling good naturedly until they’re out of breath from laughter and exertion. There’s an undercurrent of arousal involved as well, though they both ignore it easily in favor of more closeness and cuddling. 

They migrate to the longer couch where Junmyeon makes himself the big spoon, not taking no for an answer, though to be fair Jongin doesn’t protest too hard. Things feel...lighter between them somehow, like an invisible weight Junmyeon hadn’t realized was there has been lifted. There’s still a lot for them to discuss, but if he wasn’t a believer before of how important honesty, trust, and communication were in a relationship, he is now. It’s so hard to imagine that just a few weeks ago, he and Jongin barely spoke a civil word to each other, that they’d both avoided coming home because the space they shared was so oppressive. 

Laying on the couch now, with Jongin in his arms and trying to wheedle Junmyeon into some kind of horror movie marathon feels almost unreal. He commits the feeling to memory, hoping it lasts, silently vowing to make sure that all their coming days are just as blissful.

Junmyeon knows he’s a lost, hopeless cause when he gives in to Jongin and they somehow spend the whole morning and the rest of the afternoon watching movies about cursed dolls and demonic possession. He’s not at all ashamed of watching the majority of the movies through his fingers, though he does take his revenge in the form of shoving Jongin off the couch when he laughs too much at Junmyeon’s high-pitched shrieking every time a jump scare happens on screen. They trade places after the third time Jongin almost brains himself on the coffee table, rolling on the floor laughing at Junmyeon’s expense. For all his shameless laughing, Jongin at least takes advantage of their size difference to aggressively cuddle Junmyeon from behind, letting Junmyeon hide his face in Jongin’s elbow whenever eerie music comes on. 

“Why are we watching this?” Junmyeon complains halfway through _The Conjuring_. “You aren’t even watching! You’re just laughing at me!”

“I’ve watched this movie a dozen times. I can quote almost every line.”

Junmyeon pinches Jongin’s hip and tries to elbow him in the stomach when he holds the remote above Junmyeon’s head, out of reach. “They _why_ —”

“Because you’re cute, hyung.” Jongin interrupts Junmyeon’s impending rant with a smacking kiss to Junmyeon’s cheek. 

Flustered at the sudden affection, Junmyeon loses steam. “This is the _last one_. I’m not watching any more after this.” He says with a huff. Junmyeon tugs at Jongin’s thigh until it’s hiked around his hip and Junmyeon is again surrounded by Jongin’s warmth. 

“Okay,” Jongin agrees easily, tossing the remote to the other end of the couch and winding an arm around Junmyeon’s middle once more. “This one’s the best one anyway.”

If Junmyeon were the pouting type, that’s what he’d be doing right now. But he’s not, so his hands just take up residence by his face, ready to shield his eyes from anything too sudden or scary. 

Thankfully, Jongin keeps his word and doesn’t try to coerce Junmyeon into another movie when the last one finishes. They make a late lunch in companionable silence, both of them hungry enough not to need many words as they work around each other in the kitchen. Neither of them are gourmet cooks, but they can at least grill meat and cook rice and chop vegetables without too many mishaps. 

It’s just as they’re sitting down to eat that Junmyeon notices the weird pressure at the back of his head, like a balloon waiting to pop. He glances at the wall clock hanging by the entrance to the kitchen and sure enough, it's late in the afternoon, the sun low in the sky and heading for the horizon enough to cast shadows through the open window and over the dining table. 

“What is it?” Jongin asks, noticing Junmyeon’s sudden stillness. 

“It's getting late.” It’s a strange thing to say when it’s barely four in the afternoon, but that pressure in his head has an urgency to it that Junmyeon instinctively knows doesn’t belong to him. 

Jongin glances at the clock as well, a pensive look on his face. He just hums and starts eating. After a moment, Junmyeon follows suit. 

“I don’t think the blood we have left will be enough.” Jongin says after they’ve both had a few bites. 

Junmyeon agrees with a nod, thinking back to Sehun’s same words just the night before . “I know. I’ll call Yixing to see if any of his contacts have gotten back to him. In the meantime, it looks like it’ll be up to— _us?_ ,” he amends when Jongin throws him a flat look mid chew. 

“Yeah, _us_ ,” Jongin says when he’s swallowed. “I mean, between the two of us, it’s something I’m more familiar with anyway. How do _you_ feel about it?”

Junmyeon pauses, a little stumped by the question. He’s never thought about how he _feels_. If there was something that needed doing and he was capable, his feelings rarely mattered. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, do you want to get bitten by a vampire again?”

Junmyeon shrugs. “It's not the most pleasant experience in the world, but it’s clear this isn’t something that can be done with only one person.”

Jongin doesn’t respond to that right away, a look of concentration on his face while he takes his time to gather his thoughts. “So...it's not supposed to hurt,” he starts off by saying. “It’s actually you know, in general- supposed to feel _good_.” Junmyeon watches, fascinated, as Jongin squirms a little, face looking flushed as he continues to explain. “Like, it- _we_ , or the blood- tastes better if the donor is willing and relaxed. More often than not there’s sex involved. At least from my experience.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon says slowly. He tries to ignore the instinctive snarl his wolf makes at Jongin’s admission. “That makes sense. That’s also pretty common knowledge.”

Jongin nods. “I think part of the reason it hurts every time Sehun’s bitten you is that he hasn’t been feeding enough in the first place. If it is like you said, that he’s spent the last few weeks held hostage by some crazy vampire, then he’s probably still in some kind of survival mode. He doesn’t care how the blood tastes as long as he can feed.”

Junmyeon hums thoughtfully as he mulls that over in his head. 

“I’m no expert but…” Jongin shrugs, ducking his head as he fiddles with the utensils in his hands. “I noticed Taemin was always a little rougher when he was particularly hungry. We usually met up every week, but we never really had a set time. The longer he went in between feeding was always a little more…”

He trails off, face looking more than a little flushed. Junmyeon arches a brow at him. “Go on. It’s okay. You can say whatever it is. I won’t mind.” Junmyeon minds, his wolf _definitely_ minds, but his more pragmatic side refuses to let the beast win.

“Well,” Jongin exhales, sitting up and squaring his shoulders. “It was always more _intense_ when he was hungrier than usual.”

Junmyeon feels his wolf wanting to snarl again, but he tamps the urge down quickly. “I see,” he says evenly. “How often did Taemin have to feed from you?”

“Only once every week or two. Taemin’s been a vampire for a while now. The older a vampire is, the less they have to feed. From what I picked up from him here and there, the older vampires can actually feed through...different kinds of energy, I think. Not just blood. So they can go for longer periods of time without _physically_ ingesting it.” Jongin pauses to spoon the last few bites of his meal into his mouth. “Taemin never told me exactly how old he is, but I think he’s at least a hundred years old. That, and usually lycanthrope or wereanimal blood keeps them fed for longer. Less common knowledge, but it’s not exactly a secret either. You just...have to run in the right circles.”

“I see,” Junmyeon says again, slowly finishing the rest of what’s on his plate as well. “So we’ll take turns feeding him then.” 

Jongin catches the slight change in his tone faster than Junmyeon can tack on something at the end to make it sound more neutral. There’s a different kind of shrewdness to his gaze when he sets his utensils down and searches Junmyeon’s face. “You sound less enthusiastic about it than you did five minutes ago.”

Maybe it’s their new found closeness, the bonds they’re building between them stronger now, but Jongin hits the nail right on the head. 

Junmyeon hesitates to answer right away, trying to parse through the jumble of emotions sitting heavily in his chest. He’s never been one to shy away from practicality but it’s difficult, even for him, to separate the demands of his wolf with what needs to be done in the present. He appreciates the moment Jongin affords him without any pushing or judgment. 

When he’s finally ready, he returns Jongin’s gaze steadily. “You said feedings are often sexual in nature.”

“Often, but not always.” Jongin sits back in his chair, finished with the meal and looking like he’s getting ready for a longer discussion. “It depends on the nature and ability of the vampire I guess. Taemin and I were in already in a relationship that included sex, so feeding him was naturally a part of that. But I’ve heard other vampires use fear or violence, sadness, happiness, anger—almost every type of emotion to feed.”

“You seem to know a lot about vampires.”

“Like I said, it’s all about running in the right circles.”

“So you’d be okay then, if sex becomes a part of the feedings?”

“I don’t love the idea. In fact, my wolf absolutely _hates_ it. But—” he lays a hand over his chest, right over his heart with eyes closed and brows creased. “Last night, when I saw that he’d bitten you and you were bleeding all over the place...my first instinct wasn’t to rip his head off.”

He doesn’t elaborate, even when a whole minute ticks by and Junmyeon is waiting. 

“I don’t think I’d be okay with it,” Junmyeon answers for the both of them. “I just found out what it’s like to have you all to myself. I don’t think I’m ready to share you just yet.”

Jongin’s face breaks out into a smile, his frown easing just as twin stripes slash across his cheeks. He looks embarrassed, but pleased. “Okay then, no sex with the vampire when feeding him. Though, the act of feeding a vampire is inherently intimate.. There might still be a sexual component. Whether it’s the positioning, location, or feeling...” He trails off to search Junmyeon’s face again. For what, Junmyeon can’t tell. 

“Understood. No sex with the vampire, no matter how sexy things get.”

Jongin wrinkles his nose at Junmyeon’s summary but doesn’t argue. “We might have to revisit the issue though, just in case.” Jongin’s hand starts rubbing at his chest and Junmyeon can understand the sentiment.

“Sounds like a plan.”

They migrate back to the living room after lunch and this time it’s Junmyeon’s turn to choose the movie. He picks a Japanese sports anime about volleyball just as he stretches out along the length of the couch and beckons for Jongin to join him. 

“Anime? Really?” Jongin’s tone is teasing but he settles against Junmyeon back to chest, tugging at Junmyeon’s knee until one of his legs is hitched over his hip. Jongin uses his arm as a pillow for his head, wiggling around until he’s comfortable. Then he blows out a long suffering sigh. “I don’t wanna read subtitles right now.”

“I love this show!” Junmyeon wraps an arm around Jongin’s chest and tweaks a nipple on his way. “But let’s not pretend like we’ll still be watching ten minutes into the intro.”

Jongin snickers in reply but makes an effort to keep his eyes on the screen even as Junmyeon’s hands trail up and down his abdomen. Junmyeon’s watched this episode multiple times, so he’s not particularly invested in what’s happening on screen. Instead, he focuses on Jongin’s soft skin, the way his stomach tightens when Junmyeon’s fingers trace along his hips, dipping just below the waistband of his shorts. Junmyeon can feel the way his breath quickens when he palms Jongin through the thin fabric, relishing the soft noises Jongin makes as Junmyeon fondles him slowly. Junmyeon lifts his head to peek at Jongin’s face and kiss along his shoulders. Jongin’s eyes are half-lidded and unfocused, _definitely_ not paying attention to the volleyball training montage playing out in front of them. 

Junmyeon loves the accompanying flush on his cheeks and the little circles his hips are making to press against his hand. Junmyeon runs his fingers up and down the hardening length, not really using any pressure, seeing how far he can tease before Jongin starts begging. He squeezes the head of Jongin’s cock between two fingers, rubbing at the ridge just beneath the crown until he feels wetness seep through the cloth. By then Jongin's bottom lip is caught between his teeth and his eyes are closed, not even pretending to watch what’s on TV anymore. 

He’s fully hard now, leaking in Junmyeon’s hand and it's Junmyeon who finds himself begging first. 

Junmyeon grinds his own cock against the cleft of Jongin’s ass and groans. He nibbles on the back of Jongin’s bicep as he slips his fingers into Jongin’s shorts and gives him one full stroke. The length of him, how thick he feels between Junmyeon’s fingers makes his mouth water, makes him feel acutely the kind of emptiness that’s been gnawing on him for days now. 

“Wanna fuck me?” he asks, licking at the imprint of his teeth and rubbing at the head of Jongin’s cock with his thumb.

Jongin doesn’t even hesitate before saying yes. 

They stumble off the couch and into the bedroom stupid with need. Even when they fall against the rumpled sheets together they end up wasting long minutes rutting against each other before the threat of orgasm has Junmyeon reaching for the lube stowed away in the bedside drawer. “Here,” he fumbles with the tube, squeezing too hard and dripping more onto the sheets instead of Jongin’s waiting fingers in his haste. Jongin isn’t deterred, just kisses him hard while his slick fingers find their way between Junmyeon’s legs. 

“Fuck- I’m sorry,” Jongin says when Junmyeon hisses on contact, the lube almost icy against his heated skin. 

“‘S okay,” Junmyeon mutters, lifting his hips to give Jongin more access. He feels like he’s burning up from the inside and only Jongin’s touch brought any semblance of relief. “Keep going.”

Jongin rubs nimble fingers along his rim to start, the lube quickly warming up. “You’re so tight, hyung,” Jongin whispers, focused on where his fingers coax Junmyeon for entry.

Junmyeon wills himself to relax, bearing down enough to let the tip of one finger fit just past the first ring of muscle. “Go slow,” he says on a sharp inhale when Jongin wriggles into the first knuckle. Jongin leans down to kiss his inner thigh and soothe away the sting. 

Junmyeon appreciates the sentiment, and Jongin is skilled enough that he quickly gets accustomed to the feeling of fingers inside him. It isn’t too long before he’s urging Jongin for another. Jongin pets along his walls with two fingers until he finds the spot that has Junmyeon arching his back in a long drawn out moan. 

“ _Oh fuck_ —r-right there.” It doesn’t take long for Junmyeon to learn that Jongin can be a little mean, pressing against his prostate and circling it, toying with Junmyeon, making him grit his teeth against the need to beg for release. “Jongin- Jongin, ‘m gonna come,” Junmyeon writhes, at Jongin’s mercy and not quite ready to beg for it.

“Not yet,” Jongin says, fucking a third finger in and out of Junmyeon’s hole with ease. Arousal drums through his veins when Jongin starts focusing on stretching him again, letting up on his prostate to spread his fingers and reaching further inside. Junmyeon’s cock throbs at how deep he gets, craving something thicker than Jongin’s fingers. 

“Please,” Junmyeon finally gives in to the urge to plead. “C’mon, fuck me. Fuck hyung. I know you want to.”

Jongin’s fingers falter unexpectedly and Junmyeon hisses at the sudden roughness, doesn’t know if he wants to pull away or fuck himself harder against Jongin’s fingers. Fortunately, Jongin makes the decision for him, removing his fingers and lining up his cock to take their place. He hikes up one of Junmyeon’s legs over his shoulder, hooking the other over an elbow. Then he leans over Junmyeon and presses in slow and steady, thorough enough before with his fingers and Junmyeon is needy enough not to mind the little bit of sting. 

When he’s all the way inside, Junmyeon can’t help but moan at the feeling, at the reminder of what it's like to be so full. 

“You okay?” Jongin leans down further to lick at what he can reach of Junmyeon’s chest.

“Y-yeah,” Junmyeon whispers a little shakily, reaching for Jongin’s face with his hands and pulling him down for a proper kiss. “Forgot how good this could feel.”

Jongin thrusts his hips experimentally, watching Junmyeon’s face for discomfort even as his own eyes flutter shut in pleasure. “Can I?”

Junmyeon only tilts his hips in answer, urging Jongin without words. Jongin catches on quick, pushing into him nice and slow at first, and then faster, finding a rhythm that melts Junmyeon from the inside much too quickly. 

It's different from when he’s doing the fucking. There’s something about being the one on his back, legs spread open, and vulnerable that wars against his alpha nature. It’s a grating feeling, one that could easily make his wolf rear its head and turn the fucking into fighting. Junmyeon’s toeing that line right now, wanting to savor the illicit feeling of being penetrated but wrestling with the instinct to bare his teeth and howl. 

Jongin’s doing a good job keeping him distracted with the perfect angle of his hips, hitting his prostate with every thrust. But Junmyeon needs more than just pleasure, something more to force his wolf to submit, to let them be fucked like Junmyeon really wants. “H-harder,” he urges, digging his nails into Jongin’s back so deep copper tinges the air when he drags them along Jongin’s spine. Jongin growls at the momentary pinpricks of pain, shoving his cock hard into Junmyeon one, two, _three_ times, making Junmyeon see stars before he goes back to that steady rhythm. Then it's Junmyeon’s turn to growl, seeking more of that roughness and not getting it. He rakes sharpened fingertips down Jongin’s back again and gets flashing eyes and snapping teeth for his efforts. 

“Fuck,” Jongin grits out, hips thrusting erratically for a long beat that makes Junmyeon writhe. 

“Just like that,” Junmyeon gasps. “Yes, yes- hold me down. Make me feel it, Jongin. _Make me_ —”

Jongin’s a quick study, sliding Junmyeon’s legs around his hips to free his hands. He presses down on Junmyeon’s shoulders with his forearms, restraining him, and Junmyeon’s wolf howls at the feeling of being caged. Jongin doesn’t back down, howling right back. Then he latches onto Junmyeon’s shoulder with sharp, inhuman teeth, biting down on the opposite side that was still deliciously tender from being bitten by their vampire guest. 

Junmyeon only has a fleeting moment of disappointment when he isn’t bitten on the same side, the split second of displeasure quickly overwhelmed by the fire that erupts low in his gut as Jongin sinks teeth into his muscle, stamps a claim over Junmyeon’s body and his soul in the most primal way. And oh, how Junmyeon _screams_ , how he _howls_. 

His own teeth lengthen, jaw rearranging itself to be able to mark Jongin in the same way. The evidence of their mating will fade from their skin, their mingled scents washed away, but not this. Not the feeling of fur on fur, of their wolves reaching out, all their tangled threads and once-tentative bonds solidifying until Junmyeon feels _whole_. Like he’s found home, but home is in the hollowed out space Jongin’s made for him in his chest, deeper even than flesh and blood, into the place where only Jongin’s wolf resides. 

Junmyeon gets a glimpse of meadows, the scent of a field of flowers, the sensation of damp soil beneath his toes and warm sunshine beating down on him before he blinks and he’s back in their bed, gasping for breath as he trembles with the aftermath of climax. 

Jongin is almost a dead weight on top of him, heaving against his chest as he licks at the mess he’s made of Junmyeon’s shoulder. _“Ngh,”_ is about all he can muster with the shallow breaths he can fill his lungs with, unable to breathe properly with Jongin compressing his lungs. He taps Jongin weakly with the hand not completely trapped under Jongin’s body.

Jongin groans when he pulls out of Junmyeon and tips himself to the side, just enough so he isn’t pinning Junmyeon completely. “I saw the ocean,” he murmurs against the shell of Junmyeon’s ear. His free hand trails sluggishly over to Junmyeon’s chest until he’s got a palm over to where Junmyeon’s heart hasn’t stopped pounding, stuttering for a beat under Jongin’s touch. “So beautiful...but terrifying.”

The weight of Jongin’s hand over his heart brings back the illusion of a colorful meadow behind his eyelids for just a moment, taking his breath away again before he can answer. In lieu of words Junmyeon chooses action, wraps trembling fingers around Jongin’s wrist and searches for the fluttering pulse on the inside so he can press his lips against it. There are no words, to describe this bone deep contentment, the sensation of feeling whole, of being found, like missing puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place. 

Jongin doesn’t need a reply anyway. They’re beyond words now. Jongin can learn all he wants to know about Junmyeon by pulling at the invisible bonds that connect them—fragile thread now coiling thick, like braided rope that Junmyeon is all too willing to be led by. 

And pull Jongin does. Pulls Junmyeon closer, pulls him into a kiss that melds them further together, wolves rejoicing as the salty tides of Junmyeon’s ocean merges with the sweet scent of Jongin’s meadows in full bloom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to anyone who gets the (very obvious!) Haikyuu!! reference :)))


	7. Chapter 7

When Sehun rises for the night, they’re ready for him. 

Junmyeon’s awareness of him had only increased as sunset approached, enough that he couldn’t ignore the persistent pressure at the back of his head, shattering the afterglow of his and Jongin’s love making. Jongin seemed to understand the reason for his restlessness and just gathered them both up to get clean. 

They make time to call Yixing, getting him on the phone with barely half an hour till sunset and Junmyeon’s head feels like it’s about to pop off at the top. Jongin does most of the talking, asking for updates, if the good doctor has heard anything from his contacts. Surprisingly, his answer is _yes_. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you guys first, but apparently this is an even bigger issue than we first thought.” Yixing sounds a little harried, distracted even, his tone lacking its usual measured cadence. “The situation is bad enough that the vamps have their necromancer on the hunt for the rogue. I know the guy, and it might take another few days but he’ll get the job done.”

Necromancers—a mysterious sort of people. Junmyeon’s only heard rumors of their power, their talents, and abilities. Lower level necromancers were usually employed as animators, under contract by the wealthy to raise dead family members for an allotted period of time to sort out issues with inheritance or money. While animators were a dime a dozen, a true necromancer would have power over not just the recently deceased, but a powerful one may even be able to command the undead. A necromancer could be a vampire’s greatest enemy or its best asset. Junmyeon hadn’t even known there was a necromancer in the area powerful enough to be aligned with the Master Vampire of the city.

“What should we do with Sehun while all that is going on?”

“My advice is to lie low, definitely lie low.” Yixing says gravely. “I suggest neither of you go to work or leave your house until the rogue is caught or dead. With a necromancer on his tail, the rogue might start to get desperate. He’ll try to find any vampires he’s sired to leech off strength or power. Things could go from bad to worse if he finds Sehun.”

“Then shouldn’t we hand him over to the Master Vampire of the city?” Junmyeon asks, gritting his teeth against the pressure in his head. “Wouldn’t he be safer under the protection of the coven?”

Yixing hesitates before he answers, a noticeable pause that fills Junmyeon with foreboding. “I didn’t tell them about Sehun.”

Both he and Jongin share a confused look. “Why not?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Because I’m not sure if they’d protect him or just kill him for existing. Vampire laws are complicated—if they find out he was sired by the rogue, he’s more likely to be killed or handed over to the rogue’s coven. Not everyone is as kind as you are, Junmyeon. Anyone else might have killed Sehun in that alley or left him for dead. The rogue tried and almost succeeded.”

Junmyeon curses under his breath, knowing Yixing is right. Then he curses out loud when the pressure in his head snaps, the moment coinciding with the sun slipping fully below the horizon. “I think he’s awake,” he tells Jongin, and by extension Yixing. Junmyeon has to blink slowly to reorient himself, slightly dizzy without all the weight behind his eyelids. 

“Okay, remember what I said. Don’t leave your house until we know the rogue is either killed or captured. Make sure Sehun gets enough blood regularly so that the blood lust can be controlled. Once his body learns it’s not being starved anymore, he should start needing less. When that happens, he might have other abilities start to manifest.”

“Abilities like what?”

“I’m not sure. It doesn’t usually happen so young, but then Sehun shouldn’t be able to rise right at sunset either. That’s something only very old or very powerful vamps are able to do. In his case, I think it’s best we err on the side of caution.”

“So what should we be looking out for then?”

“The usual stuff. Don’t look him in the eye just in case he rolls your minds by accident. Don’t let him bite you in the neck—” Jongin shoots Junmyeon a pointed look, one that Junmyeon suffers without retort. “—it’s too easy to take too much blood from there. He might kill you or make you his thrall, maybe by accident, maybe not. Just- be careful, the both of you. Doctor’s orders.”

They say their goodbyes soon after, and then they’re heading down to the den right away with blood bags and a small basket of necessary items in hand. They don’t have time to process all that Yixing had told them, but if one thing is for sure, it’s that the doctor’s orders were never wrong. Junmyeon will worry about all the logistics later, but for now they have a hungry vampire to feed. 

“Sehun? Are you awake?” Junmyeon calls out before entering, despite the knowing feeling in his gut that the vampire most definitely is. Instead of a reply, there’s the sound of chains dragging along concrete. He and Jongin share a look before deciding that they couldn’t wait for a reply after all. 

Sure enough, when they open the door it’s to find that Sehun has managed to chain himself to the wall. 

He’s kneeling on the floor, manacles locked around his wrists as they hang above his head. His head swings in their direction when they enter but he’s got that glassy, vacant look in his eyes, like the one from yesterday when he’d been staring at them on the couch. He doesn’t look quite as feral however, just blank—empty. It’s somehow more eerie than when he’d looked half starved and ready to devour them. 

“Hey,” Jongin says softly, walking over first, his steps slow and making sure sure not to make any sudden movements. He holds the first bag of blood out when he’s only a few feet away and Junmyeon sees the way Sehun’s nostrils flare, eyes following the way the bag sways. “You must be hungry. We brought you food.”

The chain rattles suddenly as Sehun lunges but Jongin doesn’t even flinch. There isn’t much slack to the chain and Sehun's barely able to step away from the wall at all. Junmyeon almost jumps though, and he has to will his heart to slow back down, trying to match it to Jongin’s steady beat. 

“Don’t worry, these are all for you,” Jongin says as if they were just two people having a normal conversation. “And if you can control yourself enough, we might even be able to give you a little extra.” Somehow, that last part does the trick. Or maybe Sehun’s not quite gone; he was able to chain himself up after all. Either way, Sehun stills abruptly and cocks his head to one side, looking intrigued despite the blank stare. He lets Jongin close enough to tip the snipped off corner of the blood bag into his mouth and from there instinct takes over. 

Sehun sucks the open tip into his mouth and takes long, hard pulls, emptying the bag in a matter of minutes. Jongin is quick to replace it with another one, Junmyeon handing over the two in his own hands readily. Sehun goes through the next two bags just as quickly, finally slowing down on the fourth, awareness creeping back into his expression in increments. 

His brows crease in a frown when he sees Jongin holding the blood bag to his mouth, eyes flitting back and forth to Junmyeon just a step behind him. When the last bag has been drained, Jongin pulls it away slowly and for a moment they watch each other—two waiting werewolves and a wary vampire. 

“Let’s get you out of these, okay?” Junmyeon says when the silence becomes unbearable. He gestures at the chains, though he makes no move to release Sehun just yet. Sehun blinks a few times, looking up at the manacles at his wrists, and the corner he’s kneeling in, as if only just becoming aware of the position he’s in. He tugs at the manacles, uses it to pull himself up and struggles in the process. 

“Here, let me help you.” Jongin steps forward without hesitation, reaching for the vampire’s elbow. Sehun jerks away before they can touch, eyes wide and fearful.

“Y-you- ” Sehun stumbles back onto his knees, sluggish, holding himself away and neither Jongin or Junmyeon make another attempt to approach. “You still- ? Even- even after- ” Glowing red irises are swallowed up by dark pupils when they look Junmyeon’s way. Junmyeon remembers too late not to make eye contact, ripping his gaze away, but not before the memory of Sehun sinking teeth into his neck causes the patch of skin in question to throb and burn. 

Sehun’s brows are spiked like crow’s wings ready to take flight, twin slashes of confusion and apprehension on his pale face. 

“Yesterday wasn’t a mistake,” Jongin goes down on one knee to speak, surprising Junmyeon when he makes no effort to avoid Sehun’s bright red gaze. “We know the blood we have isn't enough and having you feed from either of us was always part of the plan. Yesterday was a poor execution of that plan, but we’re more prepared today. You’re still hungry, right?” The vampire nods, the furrow of his brows not easing, even slightly. “We have it on good authority that you’re less likely to hurt someone if you're well fed.”

Those words are enough to have Sehun cooperating. He goes still when Jongin reaches for his wrists, letting Jongin free him from the manacles one at a time. The silver makes Jongin hiss and grimace but he makes quick work of them once they’re unlocked. Sehun still flinches at Jongin’s touch when the wolf helps him up, but he lets himself be led over to the bed, every footstep heavy, eyes darting from one wolf to the other. When he does sit, it’s at the very edge of the bed, sharp teeth clicking when his jaw clenched as Junmyeon brushes past him to lay some towels on the bed. Something akin to electricity skitters up Junmyeon’s spine at the contact and he has to shake his head to ward away the tingle at the base of his neck. 

“Are you okay?” Junmyeon turns to Jongin and reaches for his hands, craving the warmth of his skin, needing the scent of honeysuckle and sunshine to ground him. He frowns at Jongin’s blistered fingertips, raw and peeling where they’d come in contact with the silver.

“I’m fine. Nothing a little magical healing wolfsbane can’t handle.” Junmyeon frowns further at this and feels his wolf bristle at the thought of Jongin wounded or uncomfortable in the slightest. He ignores his frustrated beast; they have more important matters to deal with and besides, Jongin is already starting to heal the longer he watches. 

Junmyeon comes around to position himself against the headboard, on the same side Sehun is sitting, far enough not to be in the way, but close enough to be within reach. “Alright. How do you want to do this?” 

Jongin turns to Sehun, who’d been watching quietly and hugging himself, that eerie quality creeping back again into his gaze even as his hands fist against his ribs. “You're going to feed from me this time,” he tells the vampire, still making eye contact without fear. “I have some experience so I’ll let you take as much as I can handle. Junmyeon hyung will be here to make sure things don’t get out of hand, like yesterday.”

A flicker of emotion, Seun’s pupils dilating even further until there’s only a thin ring of red left of his irises. They flit to Jongin’s neck, the pure hunger and anticipation on his face unmistakable. “Not from here though.” Jongin redirects Sehun’s gaze from his neck to his left arm, lifting it up and exposing a bicep. “You’ll bite me here instead. It’s a vein and not an artery, but it should do the job.”

Sehun’s eyes zero in on where Jongin taps along the line of his vein running from his elbow and up the inside of his arm. It becomes more pronounced with every slap of skin on skin, plumping up in a way that’s obvious, even to the untrained eye. Beside him, Sehun’s as still as a statue, the kind of still only a vampire was capable of. Only his eyes remain animated, almost glittering as Jongin continues to flick at the exposed vein, his skin warming up until it's pink.

Then Jongin is taking off his shirt and laying on his back, on the towels Junmyeon had laid out. He’s stretching out his left arm, getting comfortable, and Junmyeon is fascinated by the play of muscle on his shoulders, his chest. His abdomen is ridged and taut, his skin smooth and warm. He smells like the meadows Junmyeon’s seen flash behind his eyelids, a riot of bouquets that soak Junmyeon’s senses and call him home. Just looking at him makes Junmyeon’s chest ache, his blood burn, gums itchy and—

_Oh_ , Junmyeon thinks, those aren’t his thoughts.

“—won’t hurt me, right?” Jongin’s murmur is low, his voice taking on a slight rasp as he beckons the vampire over to his open side. “You’ll bite gently and drink slowly, so that we can do it all again tomorrow.”

There’s a hollow in the pit of Junmyeon’s stomach he’s never felt before, something heavy stirring just behind his rib cage. His gums itch even more and Junmyeon feels saliva start to pool under the roof of his tongue. And still Sehun hasn’t moved, still perched at the very edge of the bed like he doesn’t know if he should run away or sink teeth into the throbbing vein right in front of him. Junmyeon can feel the hunger bellowing in that pit, almost a beast unto itself. It’s a wonder how Sehun’s denying the way it roars, clamoring for attention and scraping at his insides. 

“Come on, come here,” Jongin coaxes in that same low, rasping voice. He’s got his bottom lip caught between his teeth, a little too sharp looking to be entirely human. The scent of fresh blood is sweet and coppery when he bites down, and they only need a drop of it to finally get Sehun moving. 

The vampire goes almost fluid, his long body melting into the sheets as he stretches out, hands first, pale fingers wrapping around Jongin’s bicep. It’s split seconds that seem to go on forever, time slowing down as Sehun’s attention condenses into the sliver of skin mere centimeters from his mouth. Junmyeon doesn’t question the way he seems to get a front row seat despite being on the sidelines. It's so strange to be watching the side of Sehun’s face as he leans in to lick his tongue along an inch of the popping vein, but also able to taste Jongin on his tongue, the musk of _wolf,_ and _man,_ and _sex_ that failed to fade and haunted him in his dreams except—

_Except vampires don’t_ dream _._ The knowledge is implicit and unspoken. More thoughts that don’t quite belong to Junmyeon. In another blink of the eye the thought passes, as do the seconds. One minute Junmyeon can feel the echoes of a dark pit threatening to swallow him inside out, and the next its _pure ecstasy_. 

_The rush of taste, the feel of blood gushing through the vein and into his mouth, the sweet cry of the wolf he’s feeding from. This. This is what it means to feed. This is what it means to be sated and fulfilled. This is completion and nirvana, life flooding through every pull, his throat working to get as much of it into himself before there’s nothing left._

_Nothing left._

_Nothing_ —

**No**. 

Junmyeon thinks the word hard, thinks it loud, projects until the thought is ricocheting off the confines of his head and _outward_ so that just as abruptly as it started the taste of blood is gone. Junmyeon is brought back to the present, the one with only his view, no more of the juxtaposition of Sehun’s profile and the heady scent of Jongin under his nose. 

Sehun gasps, drawing breath he doesn’t need, sharp teeth and mouth and tongue stained with blood. 

“ _Ah-_ ” the noise Jongin makes when Sehun’s tongue comes out to lave at the puncture wounds his teeth had made sends liquid heat spooling down Junmyeon’s spine. Jongin threads the fingers of his unoccupied hand into Sehun’s dark hair to stop the vampire from pulling away. “You can keep going,” he murmurs, looking at Sehun through his lashes. 

“Jongin,” Junmyeon warns. Twin dark gazes turn his way, one rimmed in scarlet and the other in gold. The weight of those eyes is like a punch to the gut and Junmyeon inhales sharply, stifling a gasp to keep his head from spinning. The scent of meadows, of honeysuckle and sunshine, assaults Junmyeon’s nose but this time it’s underscored by the distinct aroma of a cool wind through a damp forest, petrichor and moss wrapped up in early morning fog. It makes his wolf pause, nose turned up in the air and sniffing. The vexed growl that had been building up in his chest smooths out into an appeased rumble.

Jongin’s eyes flash in answer. His honeysuckle scent grows stronger. He turns and curls into the vampire stretched alongside him, inhaling deeply until his chest is rumbling too. Jongin shudders. Junmyeon doesn’t know how he feels about the way they look pressed together or if the smell of blood in the air—Jongin’s blood—is making his senses go haywire. 

“Just a little more,” Jongin mumbles, eyes heavy lidded, and free hand cupping Sehun’s neck. When Sehun lowers his head to drink again, Junmyeon can’t muster enough breath to protest. 

_Sweet. So sweet. Metallic and warm, filling his mouth, hot on his tongue. He sucks and sucks until his belly is full—_ finally _. Fear and pain and darkness, plaguing him since the first night he’d risen with the blood lust ripping at his insides. It recedes with the tide pulling at his chest, the salty ocean pounding at a cliffside, swallowing up stone and bedrock with the force of its power. The ache he’s left with is soothed by the heat of a sun he’ll never see again, the feel of a thousand stems, a riot of silken petals under his palms. This is what it feels to be_ alive.

Jongin makes a sound, a tiny gasp as Sehun pulls away spontaneously. The color is high on his cheeks and he’s lost the grey pallor of his skin. Right before their eyes Sehun loses his marble exterior, his appearance more animated, more achingly beautiful, flushed and rosy with Jongin’s blood flowing in his veins. His eyes lose their scarlet tinge, going inky black as his head bobs to lick and suckle at the wounds he’d left. Jongin moans quietly at every pass of his tongue, his fingers tightening in the vampire’s hair. The blood slows until it's a trickle, then just a drop, and finally Sehun is leaning away, head buried in the crook of Jongin’s elbow. 

Junmyeon’s eyes dart between the two of them—Jongin with his eyes closed and breathing shallowly and Sehun’s face still hidden from view. The weight of a millennia of evolution is rendered obsolete, uprooted by instinct carved into the very fiber of his being as he watches Jongin and Sehun laid out on the bed. For whatever reason, his wolf aches to lay between them, or around them, it wants to be surrounded by that hypnotic scent of a cool forest, of petrichor bleeding into warm meadows and fertile soil. He has to physically shake himself out of the illusion and grit his teeth against the impulse to lay hands on their bowed heads and hold them to his aching chest. 

He stands, knees a little weak even though he’d done nothing but sit and stare as Sehun had drunk his fill and Jongin had let him. It’s Junmyeon who has to wait for a wave of dizziness to pass when he reaches for the basket full of necessities he and Jongin had brought down. With hands that tremble inexplicably, Junmyeon grabs a bottle of orange juice and a few protein bars, as well as a vial of Yixing’s special wolfsbane. 

No one protests when he slips Jongin’s arm from under Sehun’s head, coaxing the younger wolf to sit up to sip at the juice and take a few bites of the protein bar. Jongin is pliant under his ministrations, looking sleepy and relaxed. “You okay?” he asks quietly while wrapping the rumpled blanket around Jongin’s exposed shoulders. 

“Mhm.” Jongin nods, a small grin appearing on his face. “Hurt a little bit. But the second time was…” he hums, leaning into Junmyeon when he pulls him close. 

“Did he take too much?” Junmyeon nudges Jongin gently when he trails off and doesn’t continue. 

The time before Jongin answers drags. “No.” He shakes his head. “He’s learning quickly. I feel all...floaty.” He snuggles into Junmyeon’s embrace, nosing at Junmyeon’s collar. “He smells like rain.” Junmyeon doesn’t know what to say to that, not with the way his chest aches at Jongin’s words. 

So he tips Jongin’s head back for a chaste kiss instead, a quick press of the lips that does more to ground him than he cares to admit. He tips the vial of wolfsbane into Jongin’s mouth and settles him back on the bed. 

When it’s Sehun’s turn Junmyeon hesitates, hand hovering inches above the vampire’s shoulder before prodding him gently. He’s not prepared for the buzzing under his skin when they touch, or the way Sehun nuzzles his cheek against the top of Junmyeon’s hand when he tries to turn him over. He whimpers when Junmyeon pulls away as if scalded, head lifting, seeking more touch. 

Junmyeon takes a deep breath and shakes out his hand, still tingling from the contact. In his head there’s an image of an evergreen forest and the smell of spring rain. Something else tugs at his chest, spools of thread tangled like a spider’s web, just as delicate but also just as dangerous. 

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, looking for clarity. His wolf lies dormant, docile under the spell cast by the lingering aroma of honeysuckle sunshine and damp petrichor. Something’s happening here, right now, and Junmyeon’s shaking with it, down to the core, like a bell struck and it’s loud clang reverberating through his bones. 

In the end it’s Jongin who wiggles closer, snaking out a hand from under his blanket cocoon to tug at Sehun until he turns over. Sehun follows willingly and Jongin keeps his hand on Sehun’s chest, fingers brushing back and forth, back and forth just beneath his clavicle. 

Junmyeon shakes himself out of his stupor, ignoring the odd tugging of his chest to attend to more practical matters. He grabs a dampened towel and doesn’t hesitate the next time he reaches out, anticipating the buzz when he runs the cloth across Sehun’s mouth to clean away the sticky red smudged around them. 

Sehun’s eyes flutter open, inky black and just as heavy lidded as Jongin’s own gaze. He’s just as pliant as well, tilting his chin up when Junmyeon gestures to wipe at his neck, just a fleck or two along his jaw. 

And Junmyeon shouldn’t, _shouldn’t_ make eye contact—he’d been warned after all—but he’s caught before he has a chance to get away, finds himself dropping the towel and crawling closer before he realizes he’s doing so. 

_Shit_ , he thinks when he’s hovering over Sehun and sinking his nose deep into the crook of the vampire’s neck, inhaling deeply right along his jugular. It’s there that he’s surrounded by the overwhelming scent of not just petrichor, but a rainforest caught in a thunderstorm. Thunder and lightning, torrential rain and howling winds. Junmyeon is flooded by sensation, electricity crawling up his spine and making him want to bite, to lick at the incredible aroma right under his nose. 

The strings in his chest and the spider’s web tangle further and further. 

Sehun moans and Junmyeon has to pull his head up, gasping for air that isn’t heavy with the smell of rain but it’s a futile attempt. As soon as he escapes Sehun’s pull on his senses, he’s assaulted next by the sticky sweet temptations of a meadow in full bloom. Jongin’s reaching for him too, their solidified bonds demanding attention, quivering violently for Junmyeon to notice. 

Again, his body moves before he can command it otherwise, pulling Jongin by the blanket until he’s pressed flush against the vampire and Junmyeon can hover over them both. 

He knows his own eyes are bleeding into red, vision gone hazy and tinged scarlet at the edges. His wolf ripples under his skin, covering him in goosebumps and all his hairs stand on end. A wave of possession has him rubbing his cheeks along the faces tilted up in his direction. Jongin whines and Sehun whimpers as Junmyeon scents them, instinct demanding that he coat them in his scent until they all smell like the salt of an ocean sea spray. 

Junmyeon feels his control unraveling quicker than he can count the seconds that pass by. It doesn’t help that it seems like he isn’t the only one. Jongin is rolling out of his blanket and surging forward, mouth latching onto the side of his neck that’s begun to throb. Jongin sucks hard with lips and tongue and it’s like the opening of a flood gate. 

Junmyeon feels like something’s punched through his chest, tearing him apart rib by rib.

He lets out a howl, loud and throaty, preternatural energy and power cresting until he can no longer contain it. He howls again when his wolf won’t shift— _can’t_. There’s no release to the pent up energy in the only way they know how. Junmyeon doesn’t understand the hunger churning deep in the pits of his stomach, dragging his wolf away from the surface then shoving it back. 

Junmyeon’s felt hunger before—for flesh and blood, for the thrill of the chase, for the moonlight, for love, affection, and companionship—but he’s never felt it like this. It goes beyond need, past all logical explanations. This is not just hunger, it’s _compulsion_. It’s a void, a blackhole that demands to be satiated, to be satisfied and fulfilled. Not merely to feed but to _devour_. A beast without form or fur.

Junmyeon realizes belatedly that the hunger is not just his own, though it calls to him like a raging siren commanding the sea, demanding obeisance or bloodshed. 

“P-please, i-it _hurts_.” Junmyeon startles at the arms that wind around his waist, the forehead digging into his clavicle, the sensation of sharp teeth scraping along his skin. Sehun’s clutching at his own sternum and pleading with his eyes. “I need- ”

He’s cut off by Jongin’s growling, his skin growing hot, looking too tight for the confines of his human body. 

“H-hyung, what’s happening?” His voice has gone deep, almost subvocal. He makes a distressed sound that shoots into the pool of hunger in Junmyeon’s gut. The hunger is pulling at him too, Junmyeon realizes. Jongin’s looking frantic, facial bones already rearranging themselves before Junmyeon can give him an answer. 

Jongin is vacillating between golden fur and tan skin, going back and forth with a painful crack of bones and shredding membranes. The half shift is bloodless but gruesome, Junmyeon’s own wolf threatening to do the same. Jongin screeches, back bowing in an impossible arch as he tries to get his wolf under control. Panic grips Junmyeon as Jongin claws at the bed, mid-shift and howling in pain. He is unequal parts man and beast, jaw distorted with too many teeth, snapping and swinging even as Jongin is crying out with human eyes. Jongin has become a physical manifestation of the manic hunger bucking in Junmyeon’s chest, brawling with his own wolf in an internal fight for dominance. 

For an instant Junmyeon is frozen, caught between internal combat and external struggle. It’s too much stimuli for him to process all at once; the hunger is a savage beast literally eating them alive from the inside and it takes a moment for Junmyeon’s brain to catch up, to figure out a solution to their predicament. 

_What do you feed a hunger that feels neverending? How do you fill up a black hole with no bottom?_

Just as slowly as time had seemed to stretch on for forever, it speeds back up again in the blink of an eye. The problem is the solution; the answer right in front of him. 

Sex or violence? Blood or flesh? He wonders how he didn’t realize it sooner.

Dawning realization is like a ripple in the ocean, turning it into a tsunami. Junmyeon is sinking teeth into Sehun’s shoulder before he’s even fully realized the thought.

The rush of blood in his mouth is hot and thick, luscious like silk slithering down his throat. All of a sudden he can’t just smell the rain forest, he’s _in it_ , being battered by the thunderstorm razing at the canopy of trees overhead. There’s moss under his hands and feet, his black wolf rolling on the wet floor like a hulking dark shadow, it’s red eyes glowing at every flash of lightning, howling along with every clap of thunder. 

Junmyeon opens his eyes—hadn’t even realized he’d closed them—but still the illusion doesn’t dissipate. Instead it’s replaced by rolling hills just beyond the horizon, grasslands dotted with colorful stems—poppies and sweetpeas, lavender and daisies. Larkspur. Delphinium. Foxgloves. There’s no place for Junmyeon to run away, even if he’d wanted to. 

Not that he dares to, not when this inexplicably feels _right_. Not when the taste of Sehun on his tongue quiets the raging beasts inside him, the ravenous hunger appeased with the offering of blood, enough that it doesn’t feel like Junmyeon’s very soul is being ripped out of his body. The mouthful he swallows of Sehun is searing, a scorching trail that wends its way out, an inferno blazing in his chest and sizzling down every nerve ending, to the very top of his head and the very ends of his fingertips. 

He’s remade by the fire, a vessel to house not only man and wolf, but also the cool, dark energy of the grave. 

Snapshots of a life that isn't his flit past his unseeing eyes like a reel; too quick to parse through and just slow enough to comprehend. The more he drinks, the more he feels like he knows the vampire beneath him. Between one swallow and the next, Sehun is more than just a rainforest caught in a storm—he’s chocolate bubble tea and puppies, soju and rainbow colored hair. Mirror selfies. Ripped jeans. A row of glass in a dance studio. White fur and a long tail. Glowing red eyes.

If Junmyeon had a little less self control he’d drink Sehun down, give in to the hunger-turned-bloodlust still lurking in his belly to dry him up. But then there’s the sound of Jongin’s sobbing right beside him, contorted in pain as the hunger still rages on inside _him_. 

Junmyeon pulls away with his last mouthful of blood pooling under his tongue. Sehun lies stunned in the circle of his arms. Shock or awe, Junmyeon doesn’t have time to decipher what it means. He just pulls Jongin to him, hauls him up against his chest and fits their mouths together in whatever semblance of a kiss they could manage. 

The bottom half of Jongin’s face is no longer quite human but Junmyeon doesn’t care. He cuts his lips and tongue on sharp teeth to push what’s left of the blood in his mouth into Jongin’s. It’s a brutal kiss, not just because it’s more vicious than any kiss should be, but because for a fleeting moment they feel _whole_.

As they pass the remnants of Sehun’s blood between them, gone is the ravenous longing, quiet is the frenzied bloodlust. All the tangled threads in Junmyeon’s chest loosen, no longer pulled taut and quivering with tension. All the knots unravel, snags and snarls smoothing out, spider webs untangling. In its place are loose ribbons, delicate and glossy, like velvet or satin. They aren’t quite like the ropes that bind Jongin to him and vice versa, but the potential for lasting ties is too incredible to ignore. Most importantly, Junmyeon’s wolf is _calm_ , seemingly satisfied by the offer of blood as well.

Junmyeon kisses Jongin until he’s settled back into his human skin, no longer cutting Junmyeon with teeth made to ravage. They kiss and kiss until the world around them loses some of its illusory quality and neither of them feel like floating away or being swallowed by a blackhole from the inside. 

When they finally manage to pull away it’s Jongin who speaks first. “What...is this?” He holds an open palm over his heart, fingers curled as if grasping at the very ribbons Junmyeon could also feel. 

“It’s- ” Junmyeon’s eyes cut to the vampire watching them from behind. He’s rubbing a hand over his sternum, blinking at them with glassy eyes. His shoulder is a mess, the imprint of Junmyeon’s teeth disrupting the smoothness of his pale skin. He’d bitten through cloth, Sehun’s borrowed shirt in tatters. Junmyeon finds him beautiful in a way that he shouldn’t.

“ _Alpha_ ,” the vampire cries softly, and in a gesture that’s purely lycanthrope in nature, he turns his head to the side and bares his throat. 

Whether it’s instinct or if it’s newly gained knowledge from their exchange of blood, the sight of Sehun’s submission lights a different kind of fire in Junmyeon’s veins. He feels his wolf stir unbidden, going from calm to charging for the surface now that it isn’t being dragged down by the hunger that’s been momentarily appeased. It takes considerable effort, but Junmyeon manages to keep the alpha from bleeding into his eyes and his demeanor, gritting his teeth against lupine energy barely contained. Now is not the time for overwhelming displays of power, no matter how strong the urge. 

And oh, how strong it is. “ _Alpha_.” Sehun says, going on his hands and knees, head bowed low between his shoulders as he crawls the scant distance to where Junmyeon and Jongin are still holding each other. A vision of white fur flashes behind his eyelids as Junmyeon watches, his hold on Jongin tightening as Sehun whines, paws at Junmyeon’s clothed knee and thighs with a cool hand. He bumps his head gingerly against Jongin’s hip, turning his face to look at them with dark eyes, inky black and imploring. 

When it’s clear they aren’t refusing him right away, he rolls onto his back, baring the vulnerable line of his throat, all the way down to his soft belly. He’s more than a little disheveled, shirt in tatters on one shoulder and the bottom hem hiked up to his ribs. He’s more wolf pup than vamp at the moment and Junmyeon can’t quite keep his energy in check. 

Jongin goes limp against him, whining at the sudden onslaught of power. He licks tentatively at the underside of Junmyeon’s jaw. He can feel Jongin’s wolf in his chest, the way it’s fur brushes against the black coat of his own, head bowed and meek. What's strange is the sensation of more fur, a flash of white in Junmyeon’s mind, another wolf with its snowy tail tucked between its legs.

“H-hyung.” The word is a question but Junmyeon doesn’t know what Jongin is asking. Junmyeon feels dizzy again, unable to move, not quite knowing how. 

Jongin slips from his grasp, tipping onto the bed to stretch out alongside Sehun who doesn’t even flinch at Jongin’s sudden proximity. He starts to lick at the bloody imprint of Junmyeon’s teeth on the vampire’s shoulder. They both moan—Jongin’s low, gruff tone is familiar but Sehun’s is not. His is breathy and slightly higher in pitch, but the sound of it provokes the same amount of pleasure. Arousal hits Junmyeon as abruptly as everything else has tonight, skewing his senses.

Junmyeon’s wolf isn’t put off at all; instead it rejoices, yips and growls in satisfaction, more than happy to see Jongin and Sehun twined together, wants to see them naked and writhing on the bed, wants to be a part of the pile of bodies exchanging every kind of body fluid imaginable. It's almost too much for Junmyeon and his overwrought senses. He feels out of control, out of his depth, confused at the pull of instinct to do things that shouldn’t feel like missing pieces slotting into place. 

So even if it hurts, even if it feels like every inch of space he puts between them is like barbed wire wrapping around his chest, Junmyeon has to leave. “I- I’ll be right back,” he says as he’s staggering backwards toward the door. 

At his words, Junmyeon’s once again hit with the weight of twin stares, dark eyes that bore into his soul. _Why?_ He thinks he hears, though no one opens their mouth to speak. _Why are you leaving?_ The words echo in his head in two distinct voices and Junmyeon finds himself scuttling back even faster, ignoring the sharp tug in his chest, leading him back to the bed. 

Junmyeon rushes out of the room, not giving himself enough time to answer.

Junmyeon runs. 

He chooses to run on two legs instead of four because he knows his wolf will just turn right back around and head back to the house. His wolf is angry as well, frustrated. Junmyeon’s wolf is simple, without the hangups of human conflicts and emotions. It doesn’t understand why they left the incredible scent of honeysuckle sunshine and damp petrichor, why they’re running away from the scent of mate and the possibility of whatever else Junmyeon is too much of a coward to face just yet. 

If only everything else was as simple.

So Junmyeon runs. He fights against the instinct to shift, racing to the very edge of the forest, to the farthest end of their property and around before he even stops to think, to breathe. By the time he stops, he’s gasping for air, bare feet cut up and healed over a dozen times. He’d been careless on the way, trying to distract himself from the heavy weight that had settled on his chest, his heart being squeezed tighter and tighter the further he’d run.

Though the distance had given him some clarity, it had also plunged him into chaos. While he’s no longer dizzy with the overwhelming power Jongin and Sehun seem to have over him now, he’s also crippled by the void in his chest, different from the dark hunger in his stomach that had demanded his attention and tried to claw its way out of his body. No, this one is an emptiness of his own making, the invisible ropes that tie him to Jongin and the new, tentative ribbons he suspects tether him to Sehun are shuddering with confusion and loss. 

Junmyeon is no fool. He knows what it means to bond with a vampire and have his beast answer it’s call. Sehun, whether he was aware of it or not, now had the power to command his and Jongin’s wolf. With his bloodlust, he’d almost forced them to shift, had almost succeeded in Jongin’s case. If Junmyeon had been anything less than an alpha, he doesn’t know what kind of mess they’d be in right now. They might have killed each other, caught in the frenzy and their beasts taking over without being chained to conscious human thought. 

Junmyeon knows little of such bonds; Jongin might actually know more than he did, but he at least knows enough to fear the consequences. If things don’t go well for Sehun, if he’s handed over to the outside coven or if he’s hurt or dies, they might not survive it. Junmyeon and Jongin would hurt or die right alongside him, would follow him to the ends of the earth if he were taken away. And they’d do it all willingly. That’s the most terrifying part. 

They barely know him. Never mind that Junmyeon _knows_ him—knows that he hates to sleep alone, that he has a sweet tooth despite being a picky eater, that his favorite kinds of songs are ballads but he doesn’t have the confidence to sing them at karaoke. This is all knowledge acquired by osmosis, through an exchange of blood neither of them realized would mean more than just a meal. Everything happened too fast and now Junmyeon is reeling.

There’s at least one consolation and it's that the bonds between the three of them aren’t complete. It’s why his chest hurts the further he’s away from them, why he feels like keeling over, lightheaded, unable to get enough oxygen the longer they stay apart. Every second he stands out in the moonlight instead of finding his way home is a stab in the heart. The ropes and ribbons that tie them together are being pulled tighter and tighter from the other end. Junmyeon feels them calling to him, coiling the invisible lengths until he is forced to turn back, following the quickest path back to the house. 

_Come back, come back_ , they plead with him in his head. _Come back to us._

And Junmyeon does, unable to do otherwise. Even faster than when he’d left, he’s suddenly back home, bursting out of the treeline to find Jongin waiting for him on the back porch. He’s clean and dressed once more, but his eyes are red as if he’d been crying and he jumps into Junmyeon’s arms, shaking all over. Instantly, Junmyeon feels better just holding him.

“Where did you go?” He asks, stifling what sounds like a sob into Junmyeon’s neck as Junmyeon hauls him up, lifting him with arms underneath his thighs. “Why did you leave?”

“Shh, I’m sorry. I didn’t go too far. I just- ” Junmyeon swallows, doesn’t really know how to go on. “Needed some air. A minute, just to think.”

Jongin shakes his head, not placated at all. “We were so scared. We could- we could feel you. Getting farther and farther away and it- ” Jongin leans away to clutch at his chest and Junmyeon can see tear tracks on his cheeks before he ducks away again. “It _hurt_.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, not knowing what else there is to say. “Where’s Sehun? A-are you guys okay?”

Jongin sniffles, wiping at his eyes when he pulls back. “We’re fine. Sehun’s asleep.”

Junmyeon touches his forehead to Jongin’s with a sigh. “I’m sorry I ran away. I was hoping we could all talk before the night is over. Isn’t it a little early for him to be asleep?”

Jongin blinks at him, brow furrowed in concern. “Hyung, it’s almost dawn.”

“What?” Junmyeon tilts his head back in confusion. 

“You were gone for _hours_. The sun’s about to come up.” Jongin points to the east where, in fact, the sun was just about to rise. 

_Fuck_ , Junmyeon thinks. He hadn’t realized he’d lost track of time. What felt like no more than minutes passing had been the whole night. Goosebumps crawl up his spine, the sudden knowledge of just how disoriented he’d been is unnerving. “Holy fuck,” he says out loud.

Then he’s putting Jongin down and rushing inside. The ache in his chest had eased somewhat with Jongin in his arms, but there’s still a persistent strain that hadn’t quite gone away. He knows exactly what he has to do to alleviate it, at least just enough until they can talk things out when night falls again. 

Junmyeon doesn’t need Jongin to tell him where Sehun’s chosen to bed down for the day; he lets his nose lead him to where the smell of damp petrichor is the most potent, letting the taut ribbon roll back into his chest. Junmyeon finds Sehun in Jongin’s bed, looking entirely too lonely. He enters the room without knocking, instinct telling him that Sehun wouldn’t mind. He steps through the doorway with Jongin right behind him and already Junmyeon feels like he can breathe easier. 

He’s greeted by the tiniest whisper of his name. “J-junmyeon?”

Junmyeon’s heart breaks at the sound and he finds himself kneeling beside the bed and clasping Sehun’s hand. It’s actually warm. “Sehunnie,” he says, unable to keep from tacking on the endearment to his name. It feels right and Junmyeon is too tired, just about done with running away from what feels right. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

Sehun whines, the sound of it incredibly familiar, almost as petulant as when Jongin does. “So mean,” he says, fighting to stay conscious even as day breaks.

“So mean,” Jongin agrees, taking a seat next to Sehun’s hip and curling around him, the action already so intimate and familiar. 

“Don’t leave- ” Sehun struggles to say, eyes dropping until they’re nothing more than slits. “ -again.”

Junmyeon shakes his head. “I won’t.”

“Stay?” he asks, the word a little slurred. “Just until- ”

“Of course.” Junmyeon hesitates for only a second before he’s getting into bed too. Sehun musters up enough strength to lift his head so Junmyeon can slip an arm under, wiggling closer until he can lay with his nose tucked in Junmyeon’s neck. Jongin spoons Sehun from behind and in no time, they succumb to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Junmyeon can’t say he falls asleep. 

He has his eyes closed and his body is tired, exhausted, but his mind won’t quiet down. Jongin doesn’t seem to have this problem, breathing even and snoring lightly every now and then. Junmyeon envies Jongin his peaceful slumber. Jongin is only prickly in the beginning, but underneath his seemingly aloof exterior, Junmyeon finds him soft and qweet. He’s a little bratty, but just enough to keep Junmyeon on his toes. 

Junmyeon likes it—loves it, even. _Loves Jongin_ , actually. He’s known it for a while now, thinks it might even be reciprocated, feels the burgeoning of emotion whenever they touch, skin to skin or fur to fur. He’s only just found that love and already he’s putting it in jeopardy.

For what, really? For whom? For the impulsive need his wolf has for this vampire he’d only just met? Junmyeon’s chest _aches_ just thinking of slipping out of Jongin’s bed, his wolf pawing at the ground with lips curled into a snarl at any attempt he makes to leave them behind again. And it's definitely _them._ The spasming of his heart isn’t just for Jongin, there’s a special kind of pang reserved for Sehun, not quite as painful, but it's there all the same. His wolf wants to wrap around him, to run with pale white fur under a full moon, to provide for him, and protect him, and mark him in a way that will never fade. 

His wolf loves the idea of leaving bruises that won’t heal right away, ones they can trace over and over again for days on end. He delights in the idea of Jongin leaving an imprint of his own teeth on Sehun’s opposite shoulder, to match the one he’d made on the left side. He wants to trace every inch of Sehun’s pale, smooth skin with his hands, followed by his mouth, bathe Sehun in his scent and make him _his_. _Theirs_. 

Junmyeon’s wolf is as simple and as uncomplicated as ever. If only Junmyeon the man was inclined to be the same. 

Suddenly there’s a sharp, exasperated exhale from out of nowhere. 

“You’re so _loud_.” Jongin grumbles from Sehun’s other side, shifting around to scowl at Junmyeon from over Sehun’s shoulder. “I can feel you thinking while I’m trying to sleep and you’re _so noisy_ , hyung.”

Junmyeon grimaces, not realizing he’d been projecting. “Sorry. I didn’t realize—”

Jongin cuts him off with a rude noise. “Hmph. I’m hungry. What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” Junmyeon says, going by the feeling of his new internal clock. Somehow, he can tell what position the sun is in, every hour that passes a countdown till the next sunset. 

He hears Jongin’s stomach grumble, echoed by his own, and Junmyeon offers to cook this time. He tries not to make it an excuse to get away, but Jongin’s eyes narrow at him and Junmyeon knows he isn’t fooling anyone. Jongin, the angel that he is, doesn’t call him out on it. 

Junmyeon leaves him a kiss on the brow to smooth out the furrow there, and it works, sort of. Then, because he can’t seem to help it either, Junmyeon presses a kiss to Sehun’s forehead too. Jongin just hugs Sehun’s sleeping form closer when Junmyeon slips out of bed, seemingly undaunted by the coolness of the vampire’s skin. 

In the kitchen, Junmyeon moves mechanically. His mind just won’t quit, fixated on all the _what ifs_ and _maybes_. He doesn’t try for anything complicated, just makes a simple stew with leftover kimchi and puts some instant rice in the microwave. He makes double portions, not noticing how hungry he really is until he’s got a pot boiling over the stove and decides he needs a bigger one. 

The food is done and the table is set in under an hour. To Junmyeon it feels like mere minutes, one half of his brain focused on the task and going through the motions, the other half itching to close the distance, to get back in bed with the two who hold halves of his soul. Junmyeon is irked by the fact that he's more than willing to be a captive. 

He knocks softly on Jongin’s open door. “Food’s ready.”

Jongin untangles his limbs from Sehun in a big stretch, every line of muscle thrown in stark relief. “Gonna be right back,” he murmurs into Sehun’s ear, kissing his temple, the side of his face. “I promise we won’t be long. We’re just going to eat. I’ll make him promise too. Hyung won’t break a promise. He’s too nice.” Jongin lifts his head and gestures for Junmyeon to come over quickly. “Come on, come tell him you won’t run away again. Promise him.”

Junmyeon finds himself hesitating less, comes over just as Jongin asks and leans over Sehun’s sleeping form. He’s so still, like a statue. If Junmyeon didn’t know any better he’d think the worst. But he does know better, and the ache in his chest opens his eyes to the tense lines of Sehun’s shoulders, the tiniest furrow in his brow, and the slightest pout of his lips— _oh_.

Sehun might be sleeping, held hostage by the daylight against his will, but he could hear them. He’d said it before; he could hear them and feel them even in sleep.

“I promise I won’t run away again. We’ll come right back,” Junmyeon says dutifully, finding that he means every word. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” He watches, fascinated, as Sehun’s posture seems to ease, how his expression seems to smooth out almost imperceptibly. 

Jongin catches him around the waist just outside the kitchen. He buries his face against the back of Junmyeon’s neck and squeezes him tight. “Thank you,” he mutters, and Junmyeon has a feeling he isn’t talking about the food. 

Lunch is a quiet affair. The both of them too engrossed in eating to converse much, way hungrier than either of them expected. Jongin is especially hungry after having Sehun feed from him the night before. He’d had nothing else but juice and a protein bar to tide him over. They end up heating more instant rice in the microwave.

When they’re done, they do the dishes together. Jongin washes and Junmyeon dries. It’s quick work since there aren’t too many dishes, though Jongin does grumble about having to wash one more pot than necessary. Junmyeon detours them onto the couch before heading back into the bedroom—to Sehun. There’s a talk they need to have and it doesn’t matter that Sehun can probably hear every word, this is something that has to be between him and Jongin first. 

“We should talk.” Junmyeon sits on the loveseat, wanting a little space and gesturing for Jongin to sit beside him. Jongin allows him none of that nonsense, plopping himself sideways, right into Junmyeon’s lap and daring him to protest. 

“I know. I can feel that you have a lot on your mind. I can feel you—both of you—in here.” Jongin taps on his chest. 

“I think...that’s part of the problem.” Junmyeon reaches up to lay a palm over the left side of Jongin’s chest, comforted by the strong, steady beat he finds there. “Last night was…” he shakes his head, at a loss for words. 

“Last night was unexpected,” Jongin finishes for him. Junmyeon nods. 

“What do you know about werewolves bonding with vampires?”

Jongin bites his lip in thought, rubbing his cheek against the ball of Jumyeon’s shoulder. “It shouldn’t have happened,” he says after a long moment. “At least not to us. From what I know, it only happens to those really old vampires. They gain power over the years, enough to become Masters and command a territory. Some of them have an affinity to certain wereanimals. They can enter some kind of blood pact for mutual power and protection. I think our current Master Vampire of the city can call on tigers.”

“He’s very powerful then.”

Jongin nods. “And very old. You have to be, to claim control over a city.”

“Sehun almost forced us to shift last night. It’s almost like he was a wolf himself.”

“A white wolf,” Jongin says, confirming Junmyeon’s suspicions. “Maybe even an alpha?”

“Not an alpha.” _Not yet, anyway._ “You’re the vampire expert, what do you think it means that he’s bonded to us and can call our wolves?”

“I’m not an expert,” Jongin grumbles, but he’s pensive afterward, giving the idea actual thought. “I honestly don’t know,” he says when a minute has passed. “None of this makes sense.”

They stew in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. “We are bonded though, I think,” Junmyeon adds, closing his eyes briefly to feel around in his chest. Yes, next to Jongin’s braided ropes are delicate midnight ribbons that only lead to one person. “It still feels incomplete, but it makes our situation more complicated.”

“This wasn’t a part of the plan.”

“No.”

Jongin leans back to get a good look at his face, a frown creased between his brows. “It doesn’t change anything, either.”

“Nothing is set in stone. Maybe we can fight it.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

The look on Jongin’s face is so intense Junmyeon almost forgets to breathe. “What if it isn’t real?” Junmyeon asks quietly. It feels wrong to even say it; his heart squeezes, beating out of rhythm. “What if what we’re feeling is just vampire powers fucking with us? Are you okay with that?”

Jongin shakes of his head, scowling. “I understand what you’re trying to say, hyung, but I already told you. It doesn’t change anything. Vampire powers or not, can you honestly say you’d be able to hand him over if some coven claimed him? Would you really just stand back and let someone take him away? Tell me you wouldn’t fight to the death if someone came after him right now. _Try_.”

It’s very obvious right away that Junmyeon can’t. “I- ”

“Exactly.” Jongin says when Junmyeon can’t continue. He deserves an award for not making the word sound smug when he easily could. “So it doesn’t matter if it turns out to be fake or just vampire powers messing with us. _Right now_ it feels real. That’s what matters.” 

Junmyeon doesn't like the silence that follows, but he struggles with filling the quiet. “Why aren’t you as bothered as I am about this?” Junmyeon asks, wanting to understand. 

“I spent the last few months miserable, fighting the inevitable, when we could have been living in marital bliss. I’m tired of fighting what feels right.”

“Even if none of it is real?”

“ _Especially_ because it might not be real. Even if everything turns out to be vampire powers just messing with us. I’m happy _right now_. Hyung,” Jongin reaches for Junmyeon’s face, cups it gently with two hands. “Spending the last few weeks together, starting over, getting along...I didn’t think it was possible. And the thought of having to share you with anyone usually makes me so angry I want to drive a fist into a wall, but the thought of getting to share you with _Sehun_ , to show him the reasons why I- I love you so much, I- I’m not angry. I’m _happier_.” Jongin clutches one of Junmyeon’s hands on his chest, the palm right over Jongin’s heart. “ _This_ is real, hyung. If you believe nothing else, at least believe _this_.”

Jongin’s words ring in his ears and for a moment Junmyeon is unable to answer, words caught in his throat and tight with emotion. “Okay,” Junmyeon says, sounding steadier than he feels. “I believe you. I- ” Junmyeon swallows, heart racing. “I love you too.”

“Hyung.” Jongin breathes the word into Junmyeon’s neck and they hold each other tightly for a long time. There are no words to describe the warmth in Junmyeon’s chest or the way his wolf rumbles in satisfaction. When he closes his eyes he can feel their energy swirling together, a midnight wolf and a golden one reaching for each other, pulling tight on the ropes that bind them.

 _This is more than love_ , Junmyeon thinks. This is what destiny feels like or fate. This feels like _soulmates_. 

“Soulmates.” Jongin mutters against Junmyeon’s neck. “You’re such a sap, hyung.”

“You heard that?”

“I _felt_ it.” 

They share a small laugh, neither of them eager to ruin the mood. 

“About Sehun…” Junmyeon says after a while. The words are pressed into Jongin’s hair; Junmyon doesn’t want to see the look of disappointment on Jongin’s face. “I’m not sure I can just accept things as easily as you do- no, hear me out.” He taps an index finger against Jongin’s mouth to curb the protest clearly at the tip of his tongue. “I don’t want to fight what feels right either. It would be so easy to give in and let instinct run its course. But there’s too much at stake. We don’t know what any of this means or what could happen in the future. I can’t lose you, Jongin. Not over someone or feelings I can’t be sure about.”

“How can you be unsure?” Jongin asks, and even if he doesn’t squeeze Junmyeon any tighter, he feels Jongin’s urgency through their bond, feels it tugging at him incessantly, unable to be ignored. “How can you feel this- this _weight_ in your chest and not be sure, hyung?” Jongin finally lifts his head to look at Junmyeon, eyes searching. Junmyeon sighs. 

“How is it that you know more about vampires than I do and still be this trusting?”

“It’s _because_ I know about vampires that I can tell you that Sehun is different.” Jongin curls his hands into fists, temper flaring. “Last night, when you were gone, he and I had to hold each other because it hurt so much to feel you get farther and farther away. I felt his pain, hyung, and it was the same as mine. That’s not something you can fake. As much as this feels unreal to you, to us, it's the exact same thing for him but _worse_ because he has no one.” Jongin presses his fists into Junmyeon’s chest in frustration. “He barely knows how he was turned, or why. He’s so scared, hyung. If you just stop trying to be logical for _one minute_ —if you just let yourself _feel_ —then you’ll know. You can’t be unsure if you know.”

It’s hard not to be swayed when Jongin looks so earnest but Junmyeon still struggles with his own stubborn nature before he can say, “For you, Jongin, I’ll try.” It has to be enough. 

He feels Jongin’s curled fingers tighten ever so slightly, the sound of stiff knuckles cracking under strain. Junmyeon’s heart clenches in tandem. “Thank you,” Jongin breathes on an exhale a moment later, sagging against Junmyeon like a balloon that’s lost all its air. “Were we fighting just now?”

“No, we’ve fought before. This is communicating,” Junmyeon says, managing a small smile. He’s glad for the change of subject, no matter how abrupt. 

“I don’t like it. Doesn’t feel right,” Jongin jokes, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere and it works. There’s an ache in Jongin’s chest that echoes in Junmyeon but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before—as much as it did last night.

“I’m not going to fight it,” Jongin looks up at him earnestly, expression sobering. “I don’t want to.”

Junmyeon can only nod, letting out a deep exhale. His wolf, for once, is silent. “Okay, then. Me too.” It feels so good even just to say it, the admission is no more than four words but it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off his chest. His fingers find their way to Jongin’s chin, gripping it gently to tip Jongin’s mouth in a soft kiss. He’s not sure until their lips catch if the kiss is welcome, but he needn’t have worried. Jongin deepens the kiss himself, as if to say _see? Nothing’s changed._

Junmyeon slips his hand to the back of Jongin’s head, and Jongin shamelessly follows the pressure on his neck, lips parting and tilting his head until they’re both panting and Junmyeon feels like he’s been kissed within an inch of his life. 

“Point taken,” Junmyeon offers while they’re catching their breath. Jongin just laughs, the sound like music to his ears. 

With their new found resolve, Jongin and Junmyeon thought they were prepared for when the sun set and Sehun woke up for the night—gathering all the necessities, preparing the remaining bags of blood—except they underestimated the impact of the hungry vampire’s need for more than just to feed. 

Junmyeon can anticipate the exact moment Sehun re-enters the waking world by virtue of the pressure that builds in his head, a headache that throbs behind his eyelids and dissipates the moment the veil of daylight lifts. Sehun is blinking up at them with inky black eyes tinged the slightest bit of red. The intensity of that gaze is Junmyeon’s undoing, any will or want he had to resist evaporating in the second it takes for Sehun to slip back into consciousness. 

The dark pit of hunger wakes with him but this time it does not roar, it whimpers.

Sehun’s curling into them, making a pitiful noise as he pulls at their limbs until he’s bracketed and buried under their weight, seeking heat. Jongin settles himself against the vampire, throwing an arm over Sehun’s torso, slipping a well muscled leg between his thighs as easily as if he’s done it a million times before. They fit together so perfectly that maybe they have. Maybe not in this lifetime, but a previous one, a past millennia of slotting flawlessly together. They make a picture perfect image, one that has Junmyeon longing to carve a space for himself right between where their bodies intertwine. It’s maddening and Junmyeon feels like he’s drowning. Once again, his body moves before he can even think, rational thought and argument seceding to base wants and desires.

His first coherent thought is that he has no idea how to kiss a vampire. 

It’s new territory and Junmyeon doesn’t realize he’s given in to the urge to connect their mouths until he’s cutting himself on sharp canines. Sehun moans, chasing Junmyeon back fervently at the hint of blood he’d tasted on his tongue. Junmyeon finds himself on his back before he can blink, the world moving in a blur of bedding, a flash of black and white fur behind his eyelids. 

The body that pins him down is deceptively slender; Junmyeon’s wolf snarls in the face of those pointed teeth dragging along under his chin but only for a moment, just until his wolf decides that it likes the display of strength. Junmyeon’s body goes taut, heart pounding and wolf panting in anticipation for the sting of a bite that never comes. 

Junmyeon growls, eyes flying open to find that Jongin’s wrenched Sehun’s mouth away to steal a kiss for himself. Junmyeon would be angry except that it’s clear Jongin is much better at kissing with fangs in the way than he is. 

He can’t deny the shot of arousal low in his gut as he watches Jongin skillfully slips his tongue into Sehun’s mouth, his large, sun kissed hand wrapping around the side of the vampire’s throat. It sits there, flexing ever so slightly, and Junmyeon suspects that the whine Sehun lets out has nothing to do with the lack of air supply and everything to do with the erotic turn the hunger in his belly has taken. 

Junmyeon sucks at the cut on his lower lip, healing already even as he licks away the sting. For a moment he’s brought back to reality, shaking his head against the sensual fog that had descended and enveloped the bed. 

There’s a third beast among them, one without fur, but no less savage. Yesterday it had been starving, fighting for survival by latching onto anything with a heartbeat. Now though, it’s merely hungry but the black void is just as aggressive, seeking to be filled. Junmyeon is powerless to its assault, not while his wolf agrees. His wolf wants nothing more than for Junmyeon to stop fighting the pull of instinct and let things fall where they may. His wolf doesn’t care about being a slave to powers unknown. It only cares about having not one mate, but possibly two. 

Junmyeon has to stifle a sharply drawn breath at the thought, elation and dread pulling him in opposite directions. He can’t think like this, the heavy, oppressive weight of Sehun’s hunger sitting like a boulder on his chest. 

“Sehun-ah,” he calls out, breaths shallow and struggling against the cloud of need threatening to overtake him once again. “It’s hyung’s turn. Come here.”

It’s the little endearment tacked on to the end of his name that catches the vampire’s attention, a pleased bubble that echoes through all three of them. It’s the only reason Jongin lets him go, guides Sehun into Junmyeon’s waiting arms, to the smooth skin and the straight vein trailing the inside of his bicep. Junmyeon doesn’t expect to be surrounded—Jongin lays between his legs, head on Junmyeon’s chest as Sehun nestles beside them. Jongin surges up to kiss him first, and Junmyeon tastes the rain. The vampire nuzzles at his side, swiping the scent of damp petrichor along Junmyeon’s ribs and underarm in a move so familiar and wolf-like that Junmyeon doesn’t even flinch. 

“Hyung?” Sehun says in a tiny voice. Junmyeon aches for him. “Can I call you hyung?”

By then they’ve abandoned all pretense, blood bags and towels forgotten by the bedside. Junmyeon also doesn’t expect the way Sehun kisses the ball of his shoulder, tongue and teeth dragging along his upper arm. He had expected to be bitten right away but instead the ever growing hunger takes a back seat to Sehun’s obviously touch starved senses. He’s always known Sehun had more control than even the vampire himself realizes. 

“Please?” Sehun asks, and the word is loaded with more than just the need to feed. 

Junmyeon can feel how much he wants to tear away at their clothes, seeking the heat of skin on skin. He whines when Jongin’s fingers stop carding through his hair, and he keeps blinking up at Junmyeon, wanting to catch his eye. He’s vibrating with need, a constant litany of _look at me look at me_ and _touch me touch me please don’t stop touching me_ running through his head and projecting outward. He’s begging on the inside too; no words can match the feeling of emptiness he radiates, wanting to be filled. 

But he waits for Junmyeon, kisses and licks at Junmyeon’s offered vein, sharp canines leaving no more than scrapes that disappear as quickly as they’re dragged along. He sucks bruises that don’t even get the time to form before they're gone. Junmyeon watches, captivated for seconds too long as Sehun works at a patch of skin, keeping it unbroken until Junmyeon finally lets him drink. 

“Yeah, you can call me hyung,” Junmyeon groans, voice hoarse and vision hazy with red. “Drink.”

Sehun moans at that, but he’s not the only one making noise when he finally pierces skin. 

Junmyeon heaves a breath, lungs expanding the moment Sehun bites down. He jostles Jongin who’s pinning him in place, stealing his breath with another kiss meant to steal his soul. Junmyeon knows this time is different even before the wave of heat and arousal crests inside his body. He’s back in the rainforest, under a canopy of dripping trees, dark fur sopping wet but he’s warm. He’s surrounded on either side by a golden wolf and an alabaster one. Junmyeon bathes in their scents of honeysuckle and sunshine and damp petrichor. Junmyeon is their ocean, vast and open, beautiful but terrifying—except for the calm waters Junmyeon ensures is just for them. 

With both their mouths on him, Junmyeon thinks he tastes nirvana, a glimpse of a union so perfect he could never have imagined it. This could only be the work of age old magic—fate and destiny conspiring with the moon, communing with the grave, calling on the ancient _powers that be_ to devise something so _complete_ that Junmyeon doesn’t have words for it. 

The ropes and ribbons in his chest feel so real they’re almost solid, no longer just feelings tugging at him, but actual connections that have made an anchor in the two most precious beings Junmyeon’s ever held in his arms. Jongin was right—it doesn’t matter anymore if vampire powers manipulated these bonds into existence. It only matters that they exist and Junmyeon knows he will live and die before denying Sehun or Jongin ever again. 

It’s with this thought that Jongin breaks their kiss and fits his mouth over the throbbing pulse at Junmyeon’s neck and bites down.

Junmyeon thought he’d reached nirvana, but there’s nothing like the feeling of both Jongin and Sehun latched onto him by the mouth. Jongin bites hard enough to break skin, but not enough to make him bleed and Junmyeon all but begs him to. 

His vision whites out, body convulsing as the untethered ends of his soul intersect and come full circle. His wolf howls, and Junmyeon feels the sound reverberate through his lips. Jongin answers with a howl of his own, wresting himself away to answer Junmyeon’s triumphant call. Sehun, without a real beast of his own lurking beneath his skin, can’t answer in the physical but the white wolf in the rainforest more than makes up for it. Thunder claps when the white wolf howls and Junmyeon isn’t just drowning in the metaphysical. He’s diving head first into the preternatual unknown. 

This is _completion_. 

_This_ is ecstasy.

The aftermath of a life altering experience is far softer than Junmyeon could have ever predicted. Or maybe he’s just biased because he’s got long limbs holding him down on either side and the sound of kisses being traded right under his chin. 

Junmyeon rouses from whatever pseudo-sleep he’d slipped into as his whole world rearranged itself to find twin dark stares peeking up at him. The weight of gravity he’s hit with when he stares back is equally staggering; if he hadn’t already been horizontal, Junmyeon would be down on his knees, weak but willing to worship.

Predictably it's Jongin who concedes first, ducking his head to trail kisses up Junmyeon’s sternum and his chin to press a sweet one against his mouth. 

“How long was I out?” Junmyeon murmurs into their kiss. Jongin tastes like blood and rain and honeysuckle sunshine. It could be minutes or seconds or even hours, but Junmyeon doesn’t let Jongin answer right away. 

“Not long,” Jongin says between kisses. “But long enough that we missed you.”

 _We_.

It’s Junmyeon who surrenders this time, a little dizzy and out of breath. Jongin leans back with kiss swollen lips, his already generous mouth all strawberry-pink and slick with spit. The only reason Junmyeon doesn’t pull him back down for another kiss is because he can feel Sehun quaking for his turn. Jongin settles back comfortably onto his chest to watch it all happen.

Junmyeon reaches for Sehun without words, because all he needs is the knowing in his heart, the weight of ribbons in his chest. The vicious claws of hunger have eased their grip on Sehun, lying dormant, sated for now by blood and newly solidified bonds. He’s surprisingly shy, ducking his head to stare at Junmyeon’s mouth instead of meeting his eyes. 

Junmyeon tilts the vampire’s chin up to capture his gaze and there’s no fear of being rolled or overwhelmed by vampire powers. No, Junmyeon’s been so fully conquered and overcome that there’s no need for further devastating persuasion. He will only answer Sehun’s call willingly or—

There is no _or_. Junmyeon will always answer. 

“Sehunnie,” he says softly, liking the way the endearment makes the vampire’s cheeks flush a rosy pink. _Ah, yes_. He’s full of Junmyeon’s blood now, hot with it, enough for even his ears to look warm. 

“H-hyung.” The single syllable is enough to pull Junmyeon out of any lingering stupor. 

He draws Sehun closer with a gentle hand at the back of his head, pressing him even closer for a kiss that’s painfully soft. There’s so much uncertainty and longing packed into one simple motion Junmyeon could choke on it. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly, holding Sehun’s face with two hands and brushing one of his thumbs across the vampire’s full lower lip. The gesture is achingly tender and Junmyeon wants to do it over and over again. 

“I—I’m sorry,” Sehun stammers out, eyes wide and looking damp. “I know you didn’t want this. I tried to stop it, I really did. I warned you. I warned you that I was dangerous and—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Junmyeon ignores Jongin when he snorts, the words very familiar. He knows Jongin is rolling his eyes, even without the bonds between them. “Whether I wanted it or not before doesn’t change anything. I want it _now_. I want _you_ , Sehun.”

Sehun makes a sound like he’s trying to suppress a sob. He buries his head into Junmyeon’s neck, licking and biting at the sliver of skin that’s been tender since Sehun had bitten him. Junmyeon shivers involuntarily at the swipe of his tongue but the junction of his neck and shoulder is becoming damp, wet with more than just saliva.

Junmyeon gives Sehun his moment. He does his best to hold him close and he can feel Jongin doing the same, reaching across his stomach to rub soothing circles over Sehun’s hip. It's a closed loop of comfort and acceptance, so warm Junmyeon feels his eyes mist over too. He sheds no tears, however, at least not sad ones. 

This feels good. It feels _right_. Junmyeon is never running away from this again. 

Eventually, after a few long minutes Sehun quiets down, going still and languid in Junmyeon’s arms. It’s only then that Junmyeon nudges his face up again, wanting their next kiss to be a coherent one, a kiss filled with joy and affection and the burgeoning emotion of what, in time, could only be love. 

And it is. 

Their next kiss isn’t chaste but it is careful. Junmyeon still doesn’t know how to navigate his tongue around elongated canines, so their open mouthed kisses are sweet instead of sensual. Sehun tastes faintly metallic, like blood and a thunderstorm in the summer, like lightning overhead and crackling in the air. Junmyeon chases it but doesn’t push, doesn’t demand. This kiss isn’t about dominance. It’s about promises and the future, it’s about surrendering to the unknown. 

This kiss is just the beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand that's a wrap! For the purposes of the fest, the main story is over. The short epilogue that follows is just a little something I decided to add last minute to tie up a few loose ends. That and because I really wanted to break 50k as a final word count. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks in advance to all who read and leave comments/kudos! Leave your guesses for the identity of the Master Vampire, Necromancer and the Tiger-to-call they're in a triumvirate with. It'll be revealed in the epilogue as well!


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the prompter for your awesome prompt. I can only hope that I did it justice. Thank you a million times over to the mods who were amazing, giving me feed back and granting me endless extensions. Writing this fic was a journey and I'm proud of what I've written, even if it was a struggle towards the end.
> 
> Please accept these paltry crumbs, an attempt to tie up loose ends.

The Master Vampire of the city is…shorter than Junmyeon had expected. 

Which isn’t to say that his presence is anything less than stifling. No, what Baekhyun lacked in height he made up for in sheer power. His energy is almost oppressive, the air around them thick with unnamed sorcery. There’s an air about him, an allure that draws Junmyeon’s eyes even as he resolutely does his best to avoid the Master Vampire’s piercing gaze. 

He’s dressed in tight, black leather pants and dark blue silk, more buttons left open on his shirt than there are fastened. He doesn’t wear any jewelry on his neck, but the slice of pale skin and the outline of toned muscle at his chest is all designed to make sure he’s hard to look away from. The cut of the silk emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders, making him appear wider, like he’s taking up more room than just sitting on a couch. Junmyeon finds himself fixating on the vampire’s hands, slender fingers stacked with delicate silver and gold. He radiates opulence, despite the minimalist attire. It’s certainly a stark contrast to his two companions—who are both stark contrasts of each other already. 

The weretiger on the floor draped over Baekhyun’s knees is tall and muscular, feline grace embedded in the way he lounges quietly. He’s content to have Baekhyun’s finger carding through his shock of white blond hair, eyes flashing blue when they first entered and purring every so often. He’s shirtless, every muscle he had on display as much a power play as it is an attempt at seduction. He, too, is wearing tight leather pants that hang low at the hips and are held up by criss crossing ties along the sides of his long, long legs. It’s clear he’s not wearing much else underneath. 

In contrast to the tiger’s display of skin leaving almost nothing to the imagination, the only human in the room is a man dressed head to toe in black, the crew neck of his fitted shirt showing only the barest hint of throat. He’s even wearing fingerless gloves—covering up even more ski—and black combat boots that lace over his knees. He looks so different from the other two, his clothing so simple and no-nonsense that Junmyeon wouldn’t have guessed they were all the same party if it wasn’t for the black leather. They’re sinfully tight, plush thighs trapped in unforgiving but utterly flattering leather pants. His wide, dark eyes miss nothing, assessing the room in a manner more befitting law enforcement than that of a necromancer allied with a master vampire. Junmyeon likes the man instantly. 

“Thank you for coming,” Baekhyun says, immediately commanding the room. His voice is soft and mellow, imbued with the kind of vampire magic Junmyeon is more familiar with, something he knows how to counteract and resist. “I apologize that it took so long for us to meet, but certain matters needed to be attended to before it was safe for us to come face to face.”

“The matter of the rogue,” Junmyeon says evenly, squeezing Sehun’s hand in his to calm the bolt of panic that echoes through their bond. He knows without looking that Jongin is doing something similar from Sehun’s other side, offering comfort as much as they can without overtly showing weakness. They flank their vampire lover on both sides, deciding to show a united front for this meeting with the master vampire and his entourage. 

It’s a private audience—or as private as it can be with a veritable army of vampire and shape shifter guards right outside the door. Minseok and Jongdae were just outside, along with other enforcers of their pack. Baekhyun had an equal number of vampires stationed outside, Junmyeon had smelled them before the door had closed and their scents were cut off. 

Baekhyun had assured them that his private offices at _Exodus_ were proofed against a wide array of preternatural abilities, though Junmyeon isn’t inclined to trust the master vampire farther than he could throw him. Junmyeon doesn’t think he’d even be able to lay a hand on him without being gutted out by either the weretiger at his feet or the necromancer in the corner. 

Nonetheless, the private office they’re currently in is less _office_ and more _sitting room_. It’s full of plush carpeting and a number of low slung, heavily cushioned couches. There isn’t even a desk. One could hardly call this space an _office_ , though to be fair, Junmyeon’s never been in the back rooms of a strip club. He’s only ever been acquainted with the business side of such establishments, and even then, he hadn’t frequented them often enough to claim any familiarity. 

“As I’m sure you’re now very well aware, we had some troublesome visitors last month—business with the Vampire Council, I won’t bore you with the details.” Baekhyun waves a hand in the air dismissively. “They were asked to leave and unfortunately not all of them complied.” At this Baekhyun frowns, his displeasure obvious. “We were able to dispatch most of the stragglers quickly enough, though not without casualties, most of whom we were able to recover or identify. Except…” he trails off, eyes flicking over Sehun’s countenance and Junmyeon feels him shudder and tense. “A grave error on our part and one I deeply regret. I’d like to offer reparations.”

Junmyeon’s more than a little speechless; he hadn’t expected an apology in any form, or even compensation. He’d expected they’d be toyed with or manipulated, not…offered compensation. Still, he chooses his words carefully. Sehun had asked for him to speak on his behalf, not just as the alpha of their little triad, but as someone Sehun trusted to keep him safe. 

“What exactly are you offering?”

“A number of things,” Baekhyun hums thoughtfully. “Protection, first and foremost. Guidance. A place in my coven.”

“That’s very generous of you.” Junmyeon says, unable to keep all the suspicion from his tone.

“Is it?” Baekhyun wonders aloud. “It’s not an offer without pretense. Sehunnie is…a little special, isn’t he?” Apprehension slithers from the depths of their bond, and it’s not just Sehun’s. “Actually, all three of you are.” Baekhyun’s eyes are knowing, their dark depths boring holes into Junmyeon’s mental defenses, trying to expose all their secrets. “It's hardly been any time at all since he’s been turned and yet here he is, walking, talking and coherent instead of gripped by bloodlust. I had expected Kyungsoo to bring me two bodies, not just the rogue’s. It’s a miracle Sehun’s survived this long without a master to help control his urges. I suppose he has you two to thank for that.”

Their silence is answer enough. 

Baekhyun surprises them with further honesty—at least what feels like it. “You three are an anomaly, one I’d prefer on my side than someone else’s. That’s the simple explanation. Oh, and—” He snaps his fingers, grinning and flashing fang. “—answers. You have plenty of questions, I’m sure. I may have answers.”

“What’s the catch?” Jongin asks, speaking for the first time. His voice is steady, strong, and Junmyeon can almost see the image of a golden wolf in his head, hackles raised, fur standing on end, ready for an attack at any moment. “There has to be a catch, right?”

Baekhyun’s grin turns into a smirk. “I’ve been around a very long time and I’ve learned not to hold on to trifling matters like guilt, but I seem to have acquired a conscience lately, and it won’t let me rest.” His eyes slide to the necromancer in the corner without subtlety. 

“He means that I’ll stake him if he doesn’t offer to help you guys.” Junmyeon doesn’t expect the deep smooth voice the necromancer speaks with. His words are calm and measured, but full of intent. 

“Kyungsoo is terribly virtuous. Very decent, full of morals, you know the type,” Baekhyun says, nodding his head directly at Junmyeon. “Just like you, _hyung_ —can I call you hyung?”

The tiger at Baekhyun’s feet snorts suddenly, flashing tiger blue eyes full of mirth. “Baekhyunnie, you’re four hundred years old.”

“I was twenty-five when I was turned,” Baekhyun says, tugging playfully at the white blond hair caught in his fingers. The oppressive power in the room dissipates just enough that Junmyeon feels like he can breathe again without a noose around his neck. Baekhyun points at him. “He’s- what, about thirty? Right hyung?” Junmyeon feels his face doing something weird, an expression he can’t control. If he had less manners, he’d probably be gaping. Kyungsoo just sighs very loudly from his corner.

“This is what I get for letting him lead this conversation,” the necromancer mutters to himself, though in a room full of vampires and shapeshifters, he might as well have spoken to the room at large. He sighs again. “I’m sorry for all the fanfare. If I had my way I’d be wearing more comfortable pants and this conversation would have been over ten minutes ago.” He shakes his head as if regretting his life choices. “Anyway, the point is, we take full responsibility for what happened with the rogue. I know an apology isn’t going to make up for any of the trauma and violence I’m sure you’ve experienced the last few weeks, but we’d like to try.”

“And there’s no catch?” Jongin asks again, looking a little bewildered but adamant. 

“Baekhyun can be a manipulative bitch—“ 

“Hey!”

“—but he’s not evil. At least by vampire standards.”

“You wouldn’t let him fuck you if he was evil,” the tiger snickers. 

“Keep talking, Chanyeol, and I’m not fucking either of you.” The weretiger—Chanyeol—makes a distressed sound.

“Well then, now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way.” Baekhyun turns to them again, eyes full of light but his gaze still just as heavy. He wiggles his fingers at Kyungsoo to come closer until the necromancer rolls his eyes and sits on the arm of the couch he’s sitting on. Immediately, the vampire’s free arm twines around his waist and the weretiger scoots closer on the floor to wrap a possessive hand around his ankle. Kyungsoo sighs, looking exasperated but clearly fond. 

They make a pretty picture, bound in leather and permeating the air with power once more. The shift in the nature of the energy they’re radiating is another strategic maneuver that Junmyeon recognizes. _Seduction_ instead of _fear._

“What do you say? Will you be joining us?”

**Author's Note:**

> This became a whole monster of a fic without me even realizing and how fitting! This is the single, most longest thing I've ever written for pretty much anything and it was a wild ride. 
> 
> Some things I didn't get a chance to address in the fic but are total head canons of mine for this AU:
> 
> -Junmyeon and Jongin have known each other for years, their families running in the same circles since they were children. But Junmyeon’s a few years older with a more mature mindset and while Jongin has always begrudgingly admired him for his leadership qualities, they never really got a long like besties due to the age difference.
> 
> -They had to get married to better the image of lycanthropes in the community after a string of supernatural attacks on humans made lycanthropes look bad. 
> 
> -Sehun was turned by a powerful vampire with an affinity to wolf shifters. Its why he feels a connection to Junmyeon and Jongin at all, and how he's able to "call" their wolves and force a shift. 
> 
> -Master Vampire of the City Baekhyun with an affinity for weretigers—> Chanyeol. In a triad with necromancer Kyungsoo. It’s a work in progress.
> 
> -I also toyed with the idea of Sehun being some kind of vampire junkie, addicted to vampire bites, which could have been one reason why he frequented the vampire clubs so much, but that didn't pan out. 
> 
> -I also thought about making Sehun some kind of human stripper/waiter at one of the clubs as well, and then Junmyeon would save him from some overenthusiastic patron and get attached. Junmyeon would start popping in to the club just to see if Sehun was doing all right and that's how Jongin would get jealous, never imagining Junmyeon would be the type to start acting suspiciously, coming home late, smelling like sex and vamps that got way too close to him (**cue more angst and jealousy). That didn't happen here either. 
> 
> Anyway, as much as I enjoyed this AU, the last 3 months have been incredibly difficult for me to write, so I apologize for any discrepancies in style or tone, as well as any grammar mistakes. Thanks to everyone who stuck around until the end! <3


End file.
